From Tetris to Family
by OveractiveTriggerFinger
Summary: One thing leads to another, and in this case, a Tetris contest leads to insanity!  A fic based on Lollidictator's Hetalia manual fics. Rated for language. Even though this uses many of the Hetalia characters, a good portion of the focus will be on Gilbert
1. I did what now?

Oh god. What DID I just do?

My eyes (bad as they are) weren't lying. On my screen, the webpage still broadcasted my success like a well-lit billboard. As I sat there floundering, I realized just how much trouble I had gotten myself into.

Oh, wait. You don't have a clue about what is going on, do you? Sorry about that. I'll fill you in.

It started out just like any other day in the life of a seventeen-year-old… well, maybe not any other day, or any other teen for that matter. Let's just say it's the average day for a geeky, anime-obsessed, antisocial girl. That's me, if you were wondering.

Anyway, on this much-too-average day among many, I was at home alone, again. And my computer was being disagreeable, again. Asher (What, a person can't name their computer?)is very selective on what he does and doesn't load, and luckily for me, he was being uncharacteristically kind and loading my favorite free Tetris site, where my predicament begins. I'm not one to brag, but I'm really very good at Tetris, so when I saw that the site was hosting a contest, I just _had _to see what it was about.

Curiosity killed the cat. I'm not a cat, but it will most certainly kill me one day.

So dangerously-curious me just absolutely _has_ to click to see what this amazing contest is about. To be completely honest, I was expecting a simple site-wide score-based contest. And I was right. But much to my surprise, there was a prize. (See what I did there? Surprise, prize? Oh, I'm sorry, I'm interrupting, aren't I?) An AMAZING prize, for that matter. The site was offering Hetalia units to whoever won. Now, I did mention that I was completely anime-obsessed, right? Well, Hetalia definitely did not escape my obsessiveness, and as such, there was no way that I was missing this contest.

Cue Tetris playing. Six hours of Tetris playing. If you were wondering, no, I do not have a social life. Thanks for reminding me. With an impressive final score of somewhere around fifty-thousand, I finally decided that seeing 't' blocks when I blinked was not a good thing and called it quits. Anyone who plays Tetris will probably be asking themselves '50.000? In six hours? What did you do, play on level one the whole time?' The answer to that is no, I did not. I do, however, have a particularly affectionate cat that chooses the most inopportune moments to sit on poor Asher's keyboard and make me have to start over.

Anyway, I submitted my score and looked for a way to wait out the two days until the contest results were posted. And because I'm a nice person, I'm not going to bore you with every detail of World of Warcraft playing and OCD window cleaning and generally being bored of those two days. No, I'm going to skip right to the part where I look at the high-score table to see…. That I won. Now, being me, the most unlucky person alive (by many standards) I was completely shocked.

It's your turn to ask 'Just how unlucky are you?' I'm unlucky enough that, hypothetically, if I bought a lottery ticket, later that day the lottery office would explode. And then WWIII would break out. And then my cat would pee on Asher. So actually winning something was an amazingly new concept for me. Following the directions on the page for the winner of the contest, I checked my email and saw a simple few-worded message. "Thank you for participating in our contest, and Congratulations on winning! Your first Hetalia unit will arrive in 2-5 business days. We sincerely hope that you will enjoy your experience. ~F.M.B. Co."

And then, I realized who the cast of Hetalia is. None of them had any semblance of sanity, except maybe Germany, China, and Canada. I could end up with a trigger-happy Swiss, a hyperactive dim-witted Italian, a violent loud-mouthed Italian… or Russia. He doesn't get any adjectives. He just doesn't. Don't get me wrong, Russia is one of my favorite characters. But actually having him in my house…

This is where I realized what I had just done. Oh god.


	2. A unit arrives

Oh well, 2-5 business days lets me think over just what in the hell I am going to do, and lets me tell you guys about myself. I'm a seventeen-year-old girl who loves manga and anime, cleaning, and anything to do with WWII. Especially panzer tanks. They are awesome. I live alone, although I used to live with my parents and brother. My family is old money, and when my parents died in a car crash, neither me or my brother were legal adults, and therefore would've been put up for adoption. Screw that. We booked flights to other countries, trying to find the most rural places possible. That is how I ended up in a mansion in southern England, living alone, having the free time to spend six hours playing Tetris.

As for my mental abilities... Well, let's say that, while I was in a school system, I pulled straight 'A' s in honours classes. Without trying. Unfortunately, my mental stability is another situation entirely. I'm paranoid, I'm OCD. I'm antisocial. I'm an insomniac. I've got bipolar and split personality disorders. And ever since I moved here, I am 100% unmedicated. I'm going to be nice again (Wow, new record!) and skip the rest of the rant about how I'm so mentally unstable and likely to crack with any differentiation in my schedule, and just skip right to when my first unit arrived.

'_Knock knock knock._' The sudden sound startled me. Living out where I did (the middle of nowhere) I rarely got visitors. Rarely as in never. So, me being myself, I grabbed the nearest safety weapon*, which was a hockey stick in this particular case, and made my way to the front door. Man, you should've seen the look on the delivery guy's face when I answered the door. Then again, it isn't every day that you are met with the sight of a skinny girl in a Rammstien t-shirt wielding a hockey stick like a sword, I guess.

*(I feel the need to explain. Being paranoid causes you to always have some sort of comforting object near you. I, personally, have some sort of sporting device that can be used as a weapon in every. Fricking. Room. Of my house. Which is a mansion, if you missed that part.)

Seeing that He didn't mean any immediate harm, I got out of my battle stance and cautiously approached him. He was a decent enough looking guy, with short black hair and gray-green eyes. He was on the taller side and was a little lanky, but like I said, generally good looking.

"This package is for a 'Krystall Anderson'. You her?"

"The very same. I assume you're bringing me my Hetalia unit?"

"Yup. Sign here, please. Do you want me to bring it in?"

As I signed, I nodded my head absently. I didn't interact with people, even when I had the chance to, so I usually just bobbed my head hoping that the question I didn't hear was a 'yes or no'.

As the delivery guy left, he handed me a manila envelope that seemed to contain a rather thick stack of papers. "That's the guide. I'll be back in another week or so to bring the next unit. Hope you got someone you can handle!" He said with sincerity. I chuckled. Knowing my luck, it was the most difficult to handle unit they produced.

I placed the envelope on the table near the front door. In my family we have- well, had- a long standing joke about directions. They weren't directions. They were destructions. Me and my brother are both very alike in the way we do things, and that is to completely ignore directions and figure things out ourselves, because if we followed the directions, we always, without fail, broke whatever the directions went to. This included model airplanes, videogames, you name it. And because I did NOT want to break my unit, I just went about opening the box without any further ado.

Unceremoniously using my beloved hockey stick as a makeshift crowbar, I pried the front off of the crate to reveal… Prussia, who appeared to be sleeping peacefully against the inside of the crate. Thank goodness. Honestly. He is one of the few who isn't really dangerous, even if he would annoy me a little bit.

I was so relieved that a 'Thank Gott' slipped out of my mouth. (Gott is German for god, and my brother currently takes up residence in Germany, so when we talk he gives me language lessons) Apparently Prussia heard this, and snapped awake. Seeing a person in front of him directly after waking up, I don't really blame him for his reaction, but it still wasn't pleasant to have his hands wrapped around my neck.

"What's wrong with you?" I gasped out. He seemed to realize what he was doing just then, and let go. I'm even more relieved that it wasn't Russia.

He stood there for a moment, staring blankly, before his signature smirk came back to his face. He walked around me, looking me up and down, grin getting bigger and bigger as he finally came to a stop in front of me.

Let me take this opportunity to tell you what I look like. I have dark brown hair that goes about two inches past my shoulders, eyes that are somewhere between brown and yellow, thin-rimmed glasses, and a form that pretty much any girl would be jealous of. Aside from being pretty flat-chested, of course. But when you're 5'6" and weigh about 105 pounds, there isn't enough weight to spare for an underdeveloped chest.

"Hey gorgeous, wanna see the awesome me's five meters?" Within a few moments, he was behind me. _Groping my arse. _Now would be a good time to tell you that I took innumerable self defense classes when I was younger. As such, this situation did not end well for the Prussian, who was now lying on the tile floor, flat on his back, grabbing the back of his head in pain. "What the fuck was that for?" He screeched at me.

"To be completely truthful, it's because I didn't expect you to touch me. Be glad I wasn't holding that hockey stick-" I gestured to the could-be weapon "-Or your headache would be a lot worse." He winced at the thought, and I offered him a hand in getting up. Being the egotistical person he is, however, he ignored my offer and picked himself up off the floor, alternating between looking around for something and glaring at me.

_Oh yeah, he came with a smaller box. Maybe he's looking for something in there? _I thought to myself as I followed his gaze, pointedly ignoring the glares. Deciding that I should get whatever he was looking for, I found the smaller box and opened it. Inside was his Teutonic Knight uniform, and what I assume he was searching for, Gilbird. I touched the soft yellow feathers of the chick, and he immediately woke up, fluttering around and chirping 'Piyo!'

As soon as Prussia heard his friend, his mood brightened noticeably. "Hey Gilbird! How've you been, buddy?" The small chick chirped again in response, flying around the Albino's head happily before settling in his white hair.

"Hey... Gilbert. Are you hungry?" I learned early on that the fastest way to someone's heart was through their stomach. It seemed to apply to units, as well.

"Yeah, what do you have for the awesome me to eat?"

I really wish he hadn't asked that. I have _extremely_ limited cooking abilities, and I mostly just kept the basics in the kitchen.. eggs, sausage, pasta, cereal. Um… I didn't even know if there was anything else.

"Are you just gonna stand there staring at my awesomeness, or are you going to answer my question?"

"I don't know what we have to eat, but if you want to cook something, 'Your Awesomeness', the kitchen is that way." I pointed to the left, indicating a rather large door that led into a semi-modern kitchen. With a self-satisfied smirk, he followed my directions, already at home even though he'd just arrived. I was thinking about which room he should stay in when I heard him cry out in what I think is delight.

"You have German bier!" He shouted excitedly when I followed him into the kitchen. Even though I'm only seventeen, all my I.D.'s and such are fakes, (although completely legitimate, as far as the law is concerned. Money can do a lot.) and claim that I am eighteen, legal drinking age in the UK. I took a liking to beer when… well, let's not go into that, alright? Let's just say that I like German beer more than the others.

"Yeah. It's much better than whatever they have at the pubs here in Britain." Then again, a lot of stuff was better when it wasn't British. Food, for example. As the Prussian dug through my pitiful supply of food, his already large smile got even bigger when he came across the bratwurst.

When he looked at me again, it didn't seem like he hated me so much anymore. Actually, it kind of seemed like he wanted to hug me, even if it was just because I had food he liked. As he went about cooking, I actually thought about reading that manual. _I really should.. just in case something I really don't understand happens_. Sighing, I went to retrieve the aforementioned manual, whistling 'Fueur Frei" by Rammstien, and to my surprise, Prussia whistled along. I really shouldn't have been surprised, though. It was German, after all.

Picking up the envelope, I took out the manual and skimmed through it. Looking at just the first few sentences, I was already glad that my terrible luck was somewhat nice to me. I hadn't gotten the 'Nyotalia' Gilbert. I was also glad that, even though I woke him up improperly, it didn't result in too much "agony for you and all nearby." Also, I shouldn't bathe with him. That shouldn't be an issue.

"What is your name?" Geez, this guy was always going to interrupt me when I was thinking, wasn't he?

"Krystall, but if you're too lazy or too 'Awesome' to call me that, you can call me Krys."

"Alright then, Krys, food's ready. The Awesome me cooks awesome food, of course, so be grateful."

In all reality, I was. I had a few talents, but cooking was definitely not one of them. Eating a good, home cooked meal was something that I hadn't done in about three years, and it'd been just about as long since I had dined with anyone. Now may be a good time to mention that my table manners aren't all that fantastic… I'm not a messy eater, or a messy anything, for that matter, but I do eat rather quickly. My mom always used to yell at me, saying 'Take human sized bites!' I'd always counter with 'I'm human and it fits in my mouth. Human sized bite.' She never did find a response to that…

"You have an unawesome habit of staring at stuff instead of paying attention to the Awesome Me or my awesome cooking. Eat, already!"

With a little grin at his commentary, I sat down next to him and began 'eating.' Not really eating so much as scarfing down the food in large bites, pausing to wince when a hot piece of potato burnt my tongue. I looked over at him to see a strange look in his red eyes.. I couldn't tell if he was disgusted at my awful manners, or awed at the speed that someone of my stature could consume that amount of food. I finally had to ask. "Just _what_ are you looking at?"

He laughed. You know, that 'kesesesese' thing he does. "You. Do you even taste what you're eating? You're like a vacuum!" He 'kesesesese'd again, apparently amused at the fact that he'd just compared me to a vacuum. I just rolled my eyes and continued to consume the, admittedly, delicious meal. It would take some getting used to, having someone in my house, but I figure I should be able to deal with Gilbert. Oh, how wrong a person can be.


	3. Dealing with 'His Awesomeness'

"Kryyyssss. I'm boooored." Gilbert whined. Again. After I allowed him to choose one of the many rooms (bastard just had to take the one right next to mine, of course) He preceded to sprawl across my bed and complain about how bored he was. I offered him game systems.

"_Those are completely outdated. Lame." _He had replied with a snort. I showed him the massive (unplayed) collection of board games that I had.

"_You don't know how to have fun, do you? Totally unawesome."_ Was his response to that one. This guy was going to absolutely annoy me to death. If I didn't strangle him first.

"Did you hear me? I said the Awesome me is bored!" He shouted. He seemed to be annoyed at the fact that I was ignoring him. I'm sure he wasn't used to the concept of not always being the centre of attention. "Hey! Pay attention to me, bitch!"

"Gilbert." He perked up at the fact that I was no longer pretending he didn't exist. "Do you like any sports? I have everything we need to play _any _of them."

Sir Awesome pondered this for a few moments. Actually, I'm not entirely sure he was thinking, because he generally didn't concentrate on any one thing for too long. The exception to this being himself, of course. "Well… Mattie does have this one cool sport… what was it? H.. Hockey?" He was grinning at me. I knew he was dragging out the conversation on purpose. Damn brat, he's lucky I didn't have _my_ hockey stick in my hand…. He'd see stars so fast he couldn't say 'Stanley Cup'.

"So you want to play that? Can you even skate?" I hoped he could. Hockey was never the most popular sport with my old friends, and when I finally convinced them to just try to play, they made absolute fools of themselves the minute they had skates on their feet. My laughing didn't exactly inspire them to play again… I should've been nicer.

With that same annoying grin he said, "No duh. The Awesome Me can play any sport. Awesomely, I might add." Of course you would add that, of course. "So, where are we going to play? It's not like there's room for an ice rink here, even if your house is awesomely huge."

I just flashed him a feral grin and walked away. "If you want to choose your own gear, you should follow me." I'm actually a little surprised that he actually listened, being who he is. Gradually making my way down the impressive staircase and to the closet in the front entrance hall, I was wondering if I actually had skates that would fit Gilbert… It would certainly suck if I didn't. Opening the elaborate doors, I sighed in relief when I saw that I did in fact have his skate size. (and every other size for that matter) "The floor is yours. I suggest grabbing at least shin guards, just in case you get in the way of a slapshot." I don't think I could've been grinning any bigger at the thought, for the fact that I'd put a few goalies out of commission with a 'badly' aimed puck.

With a 'kesesesese', the albino chose his gear, selecting the German flag shin guards (what? I have them because I like the colours) and the stick with flames painted on the side. He had to have been at least a little educated on Hockey, because he also grabbed a pair of gloves, which I hadn't reminded him to do.

"Come on, then. You got everything you need?"I didn't wait for a response; I already knew he had everything. Walking down yet another set of stairs, we arrived in my 'basement'. It's amazing what money can do. Money can get you a hockey rink. In your fricking basement.

"H-holy f-f-f-fuck." Gilbert stuttered out, teeth clacking together loudly. Sure, it wasn't warm in here by any measure, but is -10 degrees really _that_ cold? The ice has to stay frozen, you know! Nah, this temperature was light-jacket weather. Save a heavier coat for actual cold.

"Are you _shivering_?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. He looked at me like I was crazy. I wasn't going to argue with him on that one, and neither were the voices in my head.

"You ha-have a fucking p-portal to R-R-Russ-sia in here, and y-you expect m-m-me _not_ to be f-fucking cold?" I rolled my eyes at him. Of course I expected him not to be cold. You can't play a proper game of hockey when you're shivering half to death.

"Come on. As soon as you go around a couple times, you'll be all warmed up." I sat down and began to lace up my skates, and snickered in amusement when I realized that Gilbert was still staring dumbly at me. Realizing that he should probably be putting on his skates as well, he slipped them on and started lacing them up. Well, trying to, anyway. His hands were shaking to such a degree that it was impossible to tighten them properly. "You're hopeless." I said with a grin as I began to tie his skates for him. He sat back with his arms crossed and shaking, and gave a little 'humph'.

"Let's do this!" I said with more enthusiasm then I'd spoken with in quite a long time. Stepping onto the perfect surface, I took off, flying around with practiced ease. After two laps, I skidded to a stop in front of the entrance, sending a shower of snow onto a very surprised Prussian.

"Holy shit. You can skate almost as good as Mattie. How…?" He had stopped shivering. Huh. Maybe awe can do that to you. Or maybe he was hypothermic. As he continued to stare, dumbstruck, I took the opportunity for a sneak attack and roughly pulled him onto the ice.

"It's simple. I enjoy the cold, so I went out for winter sports. Because there is pretty much only one winter sport that is any kind of readily playable," I gestured to the hockey rink, "I got very good at it. Now come on! I want to play a game!" After establishing his balance on the slippery surface, he gave me another 'Are you insane?' look. I just waited for the explanation.

"You expect me to play against you? I'm awesome, but I know I won't win a one-on-one with you. Can't we just… y'know, skate?" He gave me a little dejected look with this statement. I felt bad. I didn't know exactly what units were, or where they came from, but they had feelings, and Gilberts' were hurt, even if it was for a stupid reason.

"Fine. Come on." I grabbed his arm, more gently this time, and pulled him along around the outside edge of the rink. "Do you actually know how to skate, or was it all a bluff?" I asked as he struggled to stay upright. He just glared at me.

"The awesome me can most definitely skate, miss un-awesome." He shook his arm out of my grip before skating around the outside of the rink, quite quickly I may add, and returning to the center only to fall not-so-gracefully on his arse when he arrived at the face-off circle.

I couldn't help it; I laughed.

"Oh, shut the fuck up." He said with a slight blush. That was weird; I thought that if his ego got bruised, he'd only curse the person off, no blush involved. "Do you want to stand there laughing your stupid ass off all day, or are you going to skate?" He had a point. I offered him my hand, and to my immense surprise, he actually accepted my help.

"Do you want skating lessons? I mean… you aren't a bad skater, but you don't stop well." He cocked an eyebrow at me and snorted. "Fine then. Let's skate a few dozen laps, and then go upstairs for a few beers. Sound good?"

"Now you're speaking my language!" He shouted to me before taking off around the rink, that stupid, obnoxious, adorable grin plastered on his face. Wait, adorable? Bad brain, bad!

"You coming or what?" Gilbert said, pushing me out towards the edges of my rink.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll race ya!" I said with a smirk that rivaled his.

"Oh, fuck no."

I just kept on grinning, suddenly able to forget that in just two days, I'd be receiving another unit… probably one not nearly as 'well-tempered' as Gilbert.


	4. Of hangovers and Weaponry

"Wake up, you lazy unawesome ass!"

_What the hell…? There's a person in my house and he's waking me up and he's really annoying. _Oh yeah, that's Gilbert. My brain should try to work better when I first wake up. Wait, he's calling _me _a lazy ass? I'm so confused. I really wish I had my golf club.. I could knock him out and go back to sleep.

As it was, I did hit him.

"OW! What the fuck was that for? You're the one who's still in bed at two-thirty!" He screamed at me. Agh... my head hurts. What did I do yesterday? Oh yeah.. Gil convinced me to get smashed. That means I'm hung-over, doesn't it? Wonderful.

"Dude… early. Loud. Aggghhhh." I groaned at him. How did he get in my room, anyway? I usually locked the door. Well, it may have something to do with the fact that I don't remember any of what happened after skating around the rink a few times and watching Gil fall on his arse a few times more than that. The face he made when he felt 'unawesome' was kind of adorable… like my cat when he gets all pissy. But yeah, we skated, and then we ate, and then Gil's all 'You should totally have a drinking contest with the Awesome me!' and then I had like eight or nine beers and then… blank.

Then he does that 'kesesesese' thing. But like, sixteen times louder. "Was (what in German) is little kryssie hungover? KESESESESESE~" Oh my god. He is begging to be punched in the fricking jaw, isn't he? He seemed to be affected by my death glare, for once. "Look, the Awesome me is hungry, and also too awesome to cook. Make me something." The albino said in a sympathetic tone.

"A few words first. What happened yesterday.. after my eighth beer, anyway?" I asked, getting up as slowly as physically possible to avoid getting really dizzy and falling over. He laughed at me again. Bastard.

"Well, the Awesome me won the drinking contest, of course." No duh. I'm kind of a lightweight drinker. "And then you went and got all confused about whose house you were in and where the bacon was, which was totally awesome and a little confusing. And then you got caught in your shirt-" he mumbled something I couldn't hear… wait, GIL said something quietly?-"And you passed out eventually." He started to look annoyed. "Dude, get your unawesome hung-over ass to the door. That's why I woke you up."

"Someone's at the door?" I grabbed the golf club (that actually was there the whole time) and made my way down the stairs, wincing as the not-tying-to-be-any-kind-of-quiet Prussian tromped down after me. Did he really have to make my paranoia worse? I mean, those steps echoed kind of wrong… oh god, is there someone else in the house? ARE THEY GOING TO EAT ME? On the verge of a panic attack, (for no actual reason, of course) I slooowly opened the door and shoved the golf club through the opening, earning an 'oofh' from the person on the other side.

"Ehh.. miss. I'm here to deliver another unit." The same delivery guy from last time was there, semi-doubled-over and clutching the new manual and electronic signer-thingy tightly. I felt kind of guilty… Damn Gilbert had to go and make me feel all paranoid.

"Geez, I'm sorry. IT'S HIS FAULT!" I pointed to Gil with the golf club, nearly hitting him in the face with it in the process. The delivery guy chuckled at that, at least.

"What? DON'T BLAME THIS ON ME, YOU UNAWESOME BITCH!" the Prussian roared. "I'm too awesome to be your scapegoat!" He glared at me, Gilbird chirping crazily from his perch atop the albino's head, probably agreeing with his friend. The delivery guy burst into laughter, and eventually composed himself enough to talk.

"Seems like you two get along just fine, as far as Prussia units go. I hope this next one fits in just as well." He said, his green eyes dancing with amusement. He handed me the electronic signer and manual, and wheeled the large crate into the foyer. "Be back in a few days!" He said as he left, a slight grin on his face despite the fact that he was holding his side where I sorta stabbed him with the golf club.

I slowly opened the manual, nervous and excited to know who the next member of our family would be. Pulling the manual out of the manila envelope, it said- "Oh efffffffff." I hissed.

"Was?" Gilbert asked with a thick accent, too distracted by the action of going through my cereal cabinet to be bothered to speak English.

"It's Switzerland." I growled out. "And as according to this, the only way to wake him up in a good mood requires a Lichtenstein unit… This ain't gon' end well, 's it?" The last part was in a southern US accent that I'd picked up from one of my cousins back when I used to visit relatives. I knew the Swiss's character well… He was violent, protective, and most definitely trigger-happy. I copied Gilbert and had a lapse in language. "Wunderbar."

"Mein Gott." He said with a facepalm that consisted of more cereal box than actual hand, but the action was determinable, nonetheless. "Was in der welt… whoops. Ehem, _what in the world _are we supposed to do? That's totally unawesome." He said, saying half the phrase in German before correcting himself.

"No clue… wanna open the box and duck in cover?"

"Works for me."

"When I yell go, get out of the way." I said, opening the latch and preparing to use the golf club as a long-distance knocker. Taking a deep breath and steeling my nerves, I gave the box a few harsh raps and shouted 'Go!' Both Gilbert and I dove to the floor somewhere behind the box, covering our heads in hope that our hands would be able to stop a bullet should the irate Swiss decide he had the need to shoot us.

"Who is there?" Came a very annoyed voice from the box. Looking up, I saw that Vash was scratching his head with one hand, and pointing a pistol wildly (but still skillfully) around the room. "If you show yourself now, I may not load you with lead." I knew the gun had no bullets, but… the later he figured that out, the better.

"Uhm.. Hi. I'm your new… landlord." I said. I made sure not to mumble, knowing very well that the blonde hated it. Though it was difficult to maintain eye contact, (come on, the guy is a master of death glares) I managed to say "Would you like me to show you upstairs so you can choose a room? There are many available." Geez, I sounded like someone shoved the handle of a cricket bat up my arse.

"Yes. Show the way.. please." He sort of tacked on the 'please', maybe deciding that he didn't absolutely hate my guts. I'm glad he didn't notice Gilbert. That wouldn't have ended well.

Guiding the Swiss up the stairs, I entered the long hallway that branched off into the separate sections of the house. Pointing to the left, I stated, "That way is bedrooms. I have the room second to last in the hall on the right, and Gi- the one directly next to it is occupied as well." I pointed to the right. "That way are the bathrooms, there is one with a shower, one with a Jacuzzi tub and the third one has a pool." I pointed towards the last section of the branching hallways. "Down that way are sport courts, tennis, volleyball, basketball, and football (What Americans call 'soccer'). The track also doubles as a shooting range." I knew that last part would make him happy. "There is a supply closet with all the sports equipment for those activities down there. If you know what is good for you-" I was growling the words now"- You will not, I repeat, _not_, touch my Walter PPK." Yeah, I know, it's not a very good gun, but I loved the thing to bits, and I'd had it from an age that wasn't considered legal in most countries.

"Thank you." He said, stiffly, but without the contempt that his voice had before. I turned and walked away, down the hallway that had the rooms. Noticing that the blonde didn't follow, I peeked down the hall that housed the sports centre, and saw him skipping giddily down the hall, looking for the sports supply closet that I'd mentioned.

I think we'd get along. He and Gil, on the other hand, I had nothing to say about.


	5. Stop it with the Puppy Eyes!

_Crash._

**KESESESESESE~**

_**BANG.**_

_**KESESESES- SMASH.**_

"THAT HURT, YOU UNAWESOME BASTARD!"

Yeah, life was going just great with Vash as a part of my family. For me, anyway.

For Gilbert? Not so much… In fact, I think he was becoming bipolar, for the fact that he alternated between yelling at the Swiss for hurting him or shooting at him or whatever, and laughing/annoying the crap out of the poor guy. I thought he was obnoxious before, but the amount of effort he put into making Vash's life constant hell was pretty amazing. I considered stepping in to stop the fight, (again) but it seemed like Vash had gotten a good shot in with whatever he had used to hit Gilbert.

A few moments later, the very irritated Blonde stomped down the stairs, pointedly ignoring the widely-grinning albino that was following him just a few feet back, quietly 'kesesesese' –ing.

"GILBERT." He flinched a little and then looked at me expectantly, Vash simply kept walking. "What did I tell you about annoying the other tenants?" Okay, so there was only one other guest at the moment, but I gave the Prussian rules that also applied to everyone else that may or may not arrive. I did it for his own good, being as that most of the other characters would be more than happy to hurt him given the chance, but he ignored them like he ignored every other rule and proceeded to give Vash more reasons to hate him.

"Hm? You didn't tell the Awesome me anything~" He said, an infuriating devil-may-care grin adorning his features. "Especially nothing about Blondie here." He kesesesese'd and continued following the poor Swiss.

"Get your stupid '_unawesome_' albino arse over here, before I let Vash have his real bullets back."

After a short incident involving a specific trigger-happy nation, a specific 'awesome' nation, and a pistol that was about two inches of wood away from filling sir awesome with lead, I decided to order the rubber bullets that Vash's manual had mentioned. Good thing, too, because I most certainly did not want anything… too bad happening to Gilbert. Jeez, he was the first friend I'd had in years; I would feel guilty if he got killed. Eventually. Depending on how annoyed at him I was.

"Fine, fine. Whatever you say, _mom_." I facepalmed. Really, you can't help it when you live with someone like that. At this point, pretty much anything that comes out of that mouth made me want to hit him, but some things were actually pretty civilized, hell, even _nice_. Like when he said my cooking was awesome. I knew he was lying, (I think) but still. That makes up for it, right? Right. … I think.

"I'm not your mother. And be damn glad for that, because I'd spank your sorry arse so hard you wouldn't sit for weeks." I said, glaring at him as best as I could. Vash walked up behind me and cleared his throat.

"I'd like to have a specification on the rules. I know I am not allowed to shoot that annoyi- Gilbert with real bullets, and I am also not allowed to make bullets out of the good plates, but am I allowed to pistol-whip him?" Ah, Vash. Always one to follow the rules. Gil's eyes pleaded with my own, and they narrowed dangerously when I began smirking.

"Yes, you can. But… make sure you don't hurt him too badly. Wouldn't want to ruin the carpet with blood, right?" To make sure he got the point, I added, "That would be expensive to replace, in the size rooms that I have." Vash nodded his head. The albino in the room, however, glared at me, apparently very upset with the fact that I would allow the newest resident to hurt him in any way.

"You're an unawesome bitch, you know that?" I gave him a stern but apologetic look. He's the one who had to pick fights, why should I prevent the justified retaliation of whatever victim he chose?

"Yeah, you've told me. If you would just _stop being so impossibly goddamn annoying,_ I may feel sorry for you." I contradicted my statement immediately after, however, by giving him a hug. The look on his face? Pure, hilarious, confusion. Man, if he didn't want people to mess with him, he'd have to stop being so easy to mess with! I smiled and walked away with the intention of getting a mug and making myself a nice cup of tea, but was stopped by a pair of arms wrapping themselves around my waist, and a head resting on my shoulder.

"You really are unawesome." The voice said into my ear, a bit too loud. "Everyone knows you're supposed to wait for the other person to hug back!" The Prussian laughed, making me cringe due to the fact that it was directly into my fricking ear.

"Let go and let me get my tea." I whined, not really annoyed with him anymore, but trying to pretend I was. What? I liked to confuse people, and when they tried to change my mood and they thought it didn't work, it amused me. I once again started for the kitchen, once again to be pursued by Mr. Awesome-face.

"Hey." It wasn't the voice that I had been expecting. "Do you want me to do something about _that guy_ annoying you?" The Swiss gestured to the nation a few feet behind us with contempt.

"No thank you. He's obnoxious, yes, but you get used to it… sort of." I said, wondering if I had somehow set Vash into 'bodyguard' mode. He was acting a little odd, a little defensive. Maybe he just didn't want Gilbert near anyone he liked- well, didn't hate, anyway.

"Okay." Was all he said before he left to some unknown part of the house, maybe to avoid the company of Prussia, and maybe to practice his shooting skills. Or clean his guns. Or whatever it is he does when he's alone.

Once again, there was someone beside me. "Hey, what kind of tea do you have? I want some." Arggh. I was annoyed again. Can't get a moment's peace, can I?

"There's Earl Grey and Chai, and Plum, and-" I looked at him, the smirking bastard,"- You don't really want tea, do you?" I should've known sooner. Gil just didn't seem like the tea type… or the coffee type either, for that matter. Maybe when he needed caffeine he drank energy drinks. That seemed like a very Gilbert-y thing to do.

"Nah, I don't." He 'kesesesese'd. "But it's nice that you would've, especially since the Awesomeness that is Me seems to annoy you so much." He looked sad again. Damn him and his bipolarism, and his adorable, damnable kicked-puppy look. I wanted to hug him again. Ugh, brain, stop making me want such stupid things.

"Dude, stop it with the 'aww-I'm-a-doggie-and-you-hurt-my-feelings-and-then-kicked-me-and-then-called-me-names-you're-awful' look. It isn't going to work." Lie. "You do annoy me half to death, and I'd much appreciate it if you would stop… or at least try to do it a little less. Or I may take Vash up on his offer to beat the crap out of you whenever you're obnoxious." Another lie.

"Alright then… I'll go be awesome somewhere else then…" He shuffled away, looking quite dejected. But I knew him pretty well, and I could see that amused sparkle in his eyes, and tell he was holding back one of his signature grins.

"You're an arse, you know that?" I said to him after I heard the faint laughter from the stairs.

**A/N:**

Yay, I've gotten reviews~! I'm glad everyone thought the image of Vash skipping was so funny XD  
I need to get some feedback on whether or not people want to see any kind of romance in upcoming chapters, not necessarily between the people in the house right now, of course. I'd also like to know if I'm getting personalities right. This is my first fic, and I want to make sure it's done right!


	6. Damn you, Russian Comedies!

Ah, another _perfect _morning. Yes, another morning of a semi-frightened-madly-laughing-very-annoying Prussian landing on top of me as he attempts to avoid the wrath of the Swiss that he just _loves _to annoy.

"What the fuck is wrong with you." I said, the murderous hint in my otherwise inflectionless voice enough to make him stop laughing… for about three seconds, anyway. Just to snap my already fraying nerves a little further, he answered my rhetorical question.

"The Awesome me is perfect! I don't have anything wrong with me!" Gilbert exclaimed loudly, followed by a 'kesesesese'. Oh boy… even after a week and a half living with me, he still didn't know my sleeping habits, did he? I sleep soundly. You wake me up? Well, never mind. You don't want to do that.

"I will make something wrong with you if you don't get out of here within…" I pondered how fast the albino could move without major motivation. "About forty-three seconds." He seemed to take me at least a little bit seriously, because he did begin the motions of leaving the room. However, with a rubber bullet ricocheting off the door and into his shoulder, (Man, Vash really is a good shot!) he stopped moving, most likely unwilling to put his 'awesome' self in a more direct line of fire.

"Ouch!" The albino exclaimed, rubbing the abused spot. "And come on! Be awesome for once and let me stay in here. I don't want another bruise from Blondie's bullets!" He should just be damn glad that I hadn't let the trigger-happy nation keep his real bullets. That'd leave a mark a hell of a lot worse than a bruise.

My thought process was cut off when Gilbert began hiding himself under the covers of my bed, managing to completely obscure himself just in time for the irate blonde to come in, gun at the ready. "You." He said to me, ignoring the politeness he usually, (well, sometimes) tried to have. "Is the idiot hiding in here?"

"Yeah." I answered, earning a hiss from the nation currently hiding under my blankets. "What, pray tell, did he do to you this time?" Over the past couple of days, Gil had managed to not only nearly destroy the Swiss's precious SIG P210, but also insulted his very prominent grasp of numbers. I wanted to feel bad for him when Vash gave him the worst pistol-whipping I'd ever seen, (And I watch Russian comedies. It's hard to surprise me with something violence-related) but it's really difficult to feel sympathy for a person as whiny and obnoxious and adorable and narcissistic as Gil. I've given up on trying to stop my brain from putting that 'adorable' in there. The white-haired nation really _was _cute when he wanted something, looking at me with those pleading puppy-eyes and all.

Vash was in thought for a moment. "Actually, I'm not certain he did anything other than simply annoy me, this time." I chuckled, the green-eyed nation simply raising an eyebrow at me. I simply smiled in a sadistic manner that made the usually stoic Swiss shudder a bit, though he'd never admit to doing so.

"Leave tze punichement to yourse trulee." I said, a dark Russian accent taking hold of my voice. I felt the Prussian's hand on my leg, grasping a bit too tightly and shaking. I really hoped that I hadn't set him into a violent mode with that comment. Frightened wouldn't be bad, but a pissed Prussia was a scary one. Vash left the room without another word, gripping his pistol just a little bit tighter. I pulled the covers down, revealing a shock of white hair. The owner of said hair turned to face me, red eyes wide and apparently genuinely terrified.

"W-was are you going to do to me?" He choked out, crimson orbs glazed over, either due to a painful memory or simply gripped in fear. I felt incredibly guilty… I knew that this unit had never actually seen or felt the horrors that his character supposedly had, but they were programmed into his brain or circuits or whatever was in that head of his so perfectly that he was capable of painful flashbacks.

I reached out tentatively, wincing when he flinched away from my hand. Otherwise ignoring his reaction, I gently stroked his alabaster locks, lowering my eyes to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry." Was all I said, continuing to pet him like he was a distressed animal. After a moment of shaking and shuddering breaths, he seemed to realize that I was, in fact, _not_ Ivan, and would most likely not bring him within an inch of his life as painfully as possible.

"It… It's alright. That was totally unawesome of me, wasn't it?" The nation said, still sounding meek. He laid his head on the bottom of a pillow, eyes staring ahead. He seemed ready to either have a mental breakdown, or fall asleep.

"What time is it?" I asked, wondering for the fact that the cloudy skies outside my window were not a good indication of time.

"Somewhere around seven…" The red-eyed man said, his eyelids drooping closed. "I was up all night, before you ask the Awesome me why I'm up this early. I decided to annoy Blondie when the battery to your laptop died and I couldn't find the charger." It was seven am? Oh, screw that. I'm the person who wakes up at one-thirty on a good day.

"I'm going back to sleep, in that case. Go to bed." I ordered, poking Gilbert in the shoulder where he was already bruising.

"Mhnngg.. ahm in behd." He mumbled out, already mostly asleep.

"Oh, you are in bed, are you?" I snorted in mild amusement. "Well, if your 'awesome', lazy arse is going to steal my bed, at least move over." My words fell on deaf ears, however, and I heard a light snore start up from the intruder currently drooling on one of my pillows. That was rather unappealing… he could keep that one.

I laughed once, barely a whisper, and moved myself to the very edge of the bed, not wanting to (AKA being too lazy to)move to another room. As I drifted off again, I could've sworn I heard a faint knock at the door. Oh well, it could wait.

**A/N:**

Yeah, short chapter. Also, nothing happened. I'm dreadfully sorry, I've been a bit caught up with schoolwork and generally having writer's block. I don't want to make anyone wait more than a week for an update, though, and so here we are!

I'm going to say this, though, just to clarify. I'm probably going to update three times a week, around the weekend. Sometimes I may get more in, maybe less, but I'll try to get one in as often as possible, even if it's just short filler like this, so I can keep you posted.


	7. Soggy Pillows and Ruined Breakfasts

My mind is not capable of processing even very simple information when I wake up. Because of this, when I woke up (again) a few hours after being _jumped on_ earlier, my brain could only come up with one reason for the breathing at the back of my neck and the slightly damp surface that my head was on. _I've been eaten!_

Yeah, I know, it makes no sense at all. But when one of your irrational fears is being eaten, unaccustomed warmth and… well, wetness, must signal that your worst nightmare has come true!

"Mmmm? G'morgen." A voice said, the owner's mouth being somewhere near my ear. Oh yeah. Prussia had stolen my bed earlier. Honestly, that makes a lot more sense than what I'd been thinking, but still…

"Dude, why's the pillow wet..?" I asked, still unable to process much. Being woken up early actually managed to scramble my brain just a little bit more than usual.

"Oh.. uhm.. geez. Sorry." Gilbert said, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. I rolled over, looking at him confusedly for a moment before realizing what he'd meant.

"Do you really drool that much?" Wow. Who knew someone could survive losing that much water? Well, anyone other than a dog. "And.. wait, wasn't I on the other side of the bed?" Now I'm really confused. Within five minutes of waking up, I already had to actually think.

Gil's blush deepened, and he pulled his arms away – apparently he'd been hugging me in his sleep. I should feel a little more upset about that, but I didn't for some reason. "Ja, I drool. It's awesome though! Like a German Sheppard!" He said, trying to correct the colour of his face. Who knew the Prussian could be cuter than when he was using those puppy-dog eyes of his?

I rolled to the edge of the bed, deciding that it was probably time to wake up, anyway. "It's alright. I'm just glad I didn't hit you when I woke up. I thought I'd been eaten!" I said, hoping to end the awkwardness. It worked.

"Kesesesese! You thought the Awesome me ate you? You're such a weirdo." He rolled off the opposite side of the bed, landing on his back with an 'oof' noise. I laughed at him, earning a few curses in both German and English as he stood up and brushed himself off, glaring daggers at me. Ah, good old bipolar Gilbert.

"Want breakfast?" I said, knowing that he'd be less annoyed at me if I offered him food. "Also, where is Gilbird?" I was glad he wasn't like me; if someone asked me this many questions after waking up, my head'd explode.

"Hells yeah, the Awesome me wants food. And the mini-Awesomeness that is Gilbird is sleeping on the chair that's in front of the desk with your laptop on it." The albino said, already almost completely awake. How did people function so quickly after getting out of bed?

Walking down the stairs was a pain, my leg having fallen asleep. I'm just glad I didn't trip down them… again. From about halfway down, however, I noticed that someone was already cooking in the kitchen. "Even if you hate Vash, you gotta love his cooking." I said.

"Hm.. Yeah. Blondie's a pretty awesome cook. Not as awesome as me, of course, but then again, no one is." A few 'kesesesese's later, I'd safely made it down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Good morning." Vash said, obviously still irritated. Or was he always this way? Agh, I'm not even sure anymore. "A man with a delivery was here earlier. When I told him you were still asleep he said he'd be back at around four. Here." He handed me a plate of…

"What are these, exactly?" I asked. I honestly had no clue what the man had just handed me. It was an orange-ish circle, browned where it'd been sitting in the pan.

"Cheese pancakes." It was clear that there'd be no further explanation. Oh well, I got the general idea of it. It was a.. fried.. cheese circle.. thingy. Yeah, I still didn't know what it was. But, taking a bite, it didn't really matter. The little pancakes were delicious, and must have been decently easy to make, considering the ridiculous lack of food in my kitchen. I'd have to have my bi-monthly deliveries shortened to weekly, if I wasn't planning on starving myself to keep Vash and Gilbert fed.

As the blonde sat down at the table, Prussia glared at him. "Hey, doesn't the Awesome me get some of your unawesome cooking?" He growled, clearly upset that Vash hadn't given him any food.

"No."

"Make me some food, you unawesome bastard!"

"No."

"Do you know any other fucking words, you stupid, unawesome, chocolate-loving freak?" the Albino screeched. Man, if I'd known he'd get so upset over food, I would've stocked up on types he liked before he showed up.

"Ugh, Gilbert. It's too early to be screaming like that. Just take the rest of mine." I said, trying to cover my ears and push my plate towards him at the same time. Unfortunately for me, I was being quite ignored, and the two males in my kitchen were staring at each other, bodies tensed and ready to spring. I knew what was coming, and I had the sense to get out of the way as Gilbert hurled himself at Vash.

Okay, today is _not _the day I want to deal with this.

As quickly as I could, I grabbed my hockey stick and gave both the offending parties a good rap over the head with it, earning a 'What the fuck was that for?' and an 'Ugh.'

"Get along." Was all I said before returning to my meal. I didn't expect them to, but I'd rather not have constant fighting in my once peaceful (and very empty) house. With a growl, the red-eyed nation sat himself next to me and began devouring what was left on my plate. I rested my head on my folded arms, before it finally dawned on me that I had no idea what time it was. Glancing at the digital clock on the stove, I let out a frustrated growl. It was 3:52, which meant that in just a few minutes, Mr. Delivery Guy would be back again to further destroy the balance of peace in my home.

Snatching the only remaining cheese pancake off the plate before the greedy albino cold take it, I walked into the foyer and sat down on a table, just waiting for the dreaded knocking. I didn't have to wait very long, and I grumpily rose to my feet, walking over and opening the large front door.

"Hello!" The delivery guy said, almost too cheerfully. "Here's your new unit. You know the drill." He handed me the electronic signer and the manila envelope with the guide. I simply growled out a snarky 'what else would you be doing, bringing me tea?' that was too quiet for him to hear.

"Oi." The deliveryman turned his head, facing me. "I never did catch your name. Care to tell me?" I was trying not to glare. Today just wasn't the best of days, and it was probably only going to get worse with the addition of this new unit.

He chuckled. "Not having the best day, are we? I'm Garth. I'm also going to be coming back with another unit in four or five days." He said, annoyingly cheerily. He may seem friendly to me on a normal day, but that willingness to socialize was just irritating at the moment.

I think I made a noise at him, but I'm not entirely certain because, after that, my mind went entirely blank.

"Oh shit." I said, mind whirring into action on how to avoid catastrophe with the knowledge of the box's contents.

"What?" Vash asked. He was still rubbing his head from getting whacked with the hockey stick, but he didn't seem angry at me for ending the fight that way.

"Tell Gilbert that our newest guest is none other than Ivan Braginski."

**A/N:**

A longer chapter this time, thank goodness! I still don't think I'm getting Vash's personality right, but there isn't enough of him in the anime to go by for me to try to fix it. If anyone could give me some tips, I'd love you forever! Actually, alright, I'd probably only say thank you, but still.


	8. Yeah, I'd Run

"We're all set." The blonde behind me said. Within the past two minutes, the entire atmosphere of the house had changed. _And Russia wasn't even out of the fricking crate yet! _Yes, within the past two minutes, Vash had told Gilbert the bad news, causing the albino to run up the stairs as fast as was physically possible, and lock himself in one of the rooms. Where he was most likely hidden under a bed or in a closet at this very moment.

I'd given Switzerland two of his real bullets back, in the chance that Ivan woke up in a bad mood, despite me following instructions. Speaking of which, I was quite glad that I could pronounce Russian words, otherwise I may have been a little more than screwed over, due to the fact that there was no pronunciation printed for 'Брат.'

"Hmm.. just have to shout… and then sobbing… and unlock. Ja, alright.." I mumbled to myself, reading over the instructions once more just to be sure I wouldn't be killed by doing what it so kindly told me to.

"Брат~!" I shouted in the creepiest voice I could manage. This was met with loud sobbing from the crate, just as the manual had said there would be. Oh boy, this was fun… And it was the only chance I had to be sadistic towards Ivan without putting my life on the line. I laughed, somewhere between a corrupted giggle and a true evil laugh.

"Go away, Natalya!" A terrified voice from inside the crate whimpered. I continued to laugh creepily, and walked up to the crate, scratching roughly at the surface and chanting 'Marry me~ Marry me, Брат, marry me!' followed by a more severe evil-laughing spree. The Swiss behind me backed up about a half of a pace, eyes wide. I flashed him a feral grin before returning to the torture of the person in the crate.

"Брат, we should get married~ Be mine, marry me, be mine~" I said in a creepy, oh-god-please-get-an-exorcist-we-really-need-one voice. The sobbing picked up again, and I heard the Russian shifting towards the back of the crate, in futile attempt to get farther away from me. I sighed, realizing that I was probably making Russia's mind just a little bit more messed up. Undoing the lock that was holding the crate closed produced another whimper, and I opened the door to an absolutely terrified Russian, clutching pitifully to his scarf with tears in the corner of his eyes.

"Y-you are not Natalya…" He whimpered. Wasn't he supposed to recover after that? "Привет…" Crap. I broke him.

"Hello to you too. Welcome to my house… would you like to choose a room?" I offered, in the least creepy voice I could. The hulking Russian still seemed unsure, the childish smile that was usually present on his face still not entirely there. I offered him a hand as a sort of peace gesture. "Come on. I'm not Natalya, though I will admit I was enjoying the terrified squealing that you were doing." I said, hoping to appeal to his sadistic side. He shook my hand (I hope I was just imagining that cracking noise..).

"да, fear is a fun emotion, is it not?" Ivan said, the smile coming back to his face. I led him up the stairs, hoping that he wouldn't decide he wanted my room. It wasn't like I could stop him from taking it, after all.

"The room second to last on the right is mine, and the one next to it is occupied as well." I realized I didn't know which room belonged to Vash. Oh well, I'm sure he couldn't do anything about it if Ivan decided he wanted it, anyway. "Go claim one for mother Russia." I said with a chuckle.

The hulking man skipped down the hallway, (Geez, what's with these units and skipping?) procuring the one directly across from Gilbert's. Walking into the room, I heard an 'Ah, Привет, Kaliningrad!' Shit, _that's _the room Prussia was hiding in?

Walking as quickly as I could, I reached the room just as Ivan was backing Gilbert into a corner, lead pipe in his hand and licking his lips. Gilbert was somewhere between extremely pissed off and terrified.

"Ivan." I hissed, hoping I could outrun him after this next comment. "America landed on the moon." I took off sprinting immediately, wondering why I was willing to put my own neck on the line for the albino. Hearing the heavy steps of the Russian somewhere behind me was all the incentive I needed to run faster than I had in a very long time. As I approached the end of the hallway that contained the door to the sports fields, I turned around, shocked to have the Russian a mere ten feet behind me. I stopped backing up, instead, letting a grin spread across my features.

The violet-eyed man pressed the pipe into the front of my neck, and my mind raced to find something to save myself. "Good work, товарищ." I said, my grin not wavering. "But this game is just a little bit boring now, can we stop?" Russia could probably hear the heart beating in my chest, and I did my best to quiet it a little. A confused look flashed past his eyes for a moment, before being replaced by what I assume was an understanding one.

"да, I am done playing. You do not make very good prey. You do not beg~" He said, a sadistic grin plastering itself on his face. "And I will do my best not to bother your property, though it _does_ make good prey." He noticed my lost look. "Kaliningrad _belongs_ to you, да?" He stressed the word 'belongs' oddly.

"Hm…" Oh. That's what he meant. "Yeah, you could say that." Instead of continuing to stand awkwardly in the hallway, I reluctantly passed between Ivan and the wall and headed downstairs to correct the timing of my food orders. I'd need a hell of a lot more food now that I had three other people living with me.

However, just before I could reach the stairs, 65 kilograms of frantic Prussian barreled into me in what I could only describe as a full-force tackle-glomp.

"Dude, did that unawesome bastard hurt you? That was some tough shit pulling that America comment." Prussia was scanning me over, looking for a wound or blood, I guess. "Thanks for saving me. It was pretty awesome of you." He mumbled, almost too quiet to hear.

"No problem. But seriously, let me up." I said, tilting my head back and laughing. Gilbert just gasped and put two fingers to a spot on my throat.

"What did he do to you?" There was worry in his voice, and he pushed the spot a little harder, causing me to wince. "Right here is bruised. That unawesome bastard…" He was growling, past words.

"It's over and done. Don't pick fights you won't win." I climbed to my feet and walked down the stairs, noticing a package at the door. The food delivery wasn't due for another six days… What was it? "Oi, Gil. Did you order something while you were using my laptop?"

"Hm? Ja. Why, is it here?" The red-eyed nation was excited, already over his anger towards the Ruski, and ran to the package, 'kesesesese'ing all the way. I rolled my eyes. He was like a kid on his birthday, getting something he'd been looking forward to.

"What on earth _did _you order?" I asked, maybe a _little _bit curious as to what he'd bought. Instead of telling me, he pulled the delivery out of the brown box and held it up for me to see. In his hands was a Wii, three extra wiimotes, and the games Mariokart and Just Dance 2. I facepalmed. Leave it to him to get videogames.

"Let's play these! They're awesome!" He gave me those irresistible puppy eyes, and I knew I'd already lost the battle.

"Only if Vash can play too." The white-haired man groaned, so I clarified. "Imagine him playing Just Dance. Really, do it." A few 'kesesesese's later, and I knew he'd gotten my point.

"I'll go get Blondie. Can you set it up?"

"Yeah, I'll put it on the big TV in the living room." I was pretty sure I knew how to hook up the game system. I mean, it couldn't be _that _different from older systems, right? I managed to hook up the Wii without much difficulty, it really was quite similar to the old NES system.

"Do you really want me to play this stupid game?" Vash's voice asked from the doorway. He seemed quite annoyed that I expected him to associate with Prussia. Oh well, too bad. I really wanted to see him play this game.

"Yeah. You and Prussia don't get along very well, and with Ivan in the house, I need you two to be friends. Or at least hate each other less." I said, hoping that he'd buy it.

"Fine." He eventually said, probably figuring it was best not to argue with me, especially with my hand inching towards the baseball bat in the corner. I let out a happy noise and went about setting up the game itself.

Within a few minutes, all three of us (Me, Gilbert, and Vash) were dancing along to Toxic by Brittany Spears. Honestly, it was more fun to watch than play, especially with the specific nations in question. Gilbert seemed totally comfortable with the dance moves, (which are really awkward. Go find a youtube video.) and, at first, Vash was extremely awkward with them. As it went along, however, he got better at them… it was kind of scary.

Russia walked in about halfway through our third song, and asked to play. Well, hell if I'd say no, I handed him a wiimote, and watched as he scrolled through the list of songs, stopping at Rasputin.

Needless to say, he beat all of us horribly. Luckily, being beaten this way wasn't painful. I gave up with the game and sat on the couch, followed by the Russian in question, leaving just Switzerland and Prussia playing. Gilbert scrolled through the songs, stopping at 'Girlfriend,' much to Vash's dismay. This is just about where things went downhill.

Now, near the end of this song, one person is supposed to throw a fake punch as the other dodges. Unfortunately, it is hard to 1) Not accidentally hit the other person, and 2) Actually dodge this accidental hit. And it's especially hard to dodge if the other person (Ehem, Gilbert.)_intentionally _throws a well-aimed punch.

Needless to say, Gilbert punched Vash. In the face. This led to the Swiss chasing the 'kesesesese'ing albino around the house, and Russia giggled creepily and me trying to drown that out with my own laughter. Eventually, Vash pinned my poor abused Gilbert to the floor and gave him a nasty whap on the head with his pistol. During all this, I somehow ended up sprawled across my new Russian tenant's lap, laughing my arse off. I was going to get up, but then he put his hand on my shoulder… I wasn't going to move after that. Oh well… he's gotta let me up eventually, right? Either that, or Gil could notice and do something stupid about it. Yeah.. that's more likely.

**A/N:**

I _loved _writing this chapter. All of this was inspired by my friend Emiry, and Just Dance 2. Seriously, that game is amazing. Unfortunately for Gilbert, however, some people care if you smack them.


	9. You should NOT have done that

The albino sat on the floor rubbing his head where he'd been hit and cursing off Vash in a weird pidgin of English and German. The only phrase that I could make out as all one language was 'Katze ficker.' Real nice, Gil. After about half of a minute of this verbal abuse, he finally noticed my predicament. Shutting his mouth for a few seconds, he got up calmly, walked away… and came back a few minutes later with one of my hockey sticks.

"Get your fucking hands off of her, you creepy commie bastard!" He screeched. Huh, that sounded like something America would say. Charging Ivan, Gilbert managed to get in a glancing blow on his arm before the Ruski stood up, lifting me to my feet with one arm and pulling out his lead pipe with the other.

"да, Kaliningrad, I do not see why you are so upset." He said, his innocent Stepford smile still on his face. Dodging another swing of the hockey stick, Ivan started 'kol kol'ing, and proceeded to hit Prussia in the shoulder with a relatively light blow – a warning.

"I have every right to be upset, goddamn fucking bastard." Gilbert hissed. Sidestepping, he allowed the pipe to chip the tile flooring. Really, so much drama over something stupid? Then again, it was 'The Awesome Kingdom of Prussia' we were talking about. Said nation proceeded to block a particularly strong swing with the side of my hockey stick, which broke in half with a muted _crack_.

Stepping between the combatants, I roughly pushed Gilbert's chest, and caught the end of Ivan's pipe on the downswing, not wincing even though it must have at least bruised the bone.

"Ivan. You are new here. I will go easy on you." I pronounced every syllable clearly, my voice as cold as his country. "But if you _ever _damage one of my hockey sticks _ever _again, I promise to disembowel you with a rusty butter knife and burn the organs in front of you while you are still alive. After this, I will pour hydrochloric acid down your throat and into the cavity where your stomach used to be. I will laugh the whole time."

In hindsight, this may have been a little harsh. But when it comes to me and my hockey gear… Well, I'd make good on my threat if Ivan was brave enough to break another stick.

"You are very defensive of your property, да?" The purple-eyed man said, his grin wavering. I turned my back to him, being met with a set of terrified but also impressed red eyes. I glared at their owner, and the emotion behind them turned to confused fear.

"Next time you decide to pick a fight with Ivan, Gilbert, _please _use a golf club." I said, my voice not losing its threatening tone.

"Yes ma'am…" The albino whimpered. I hoped he wouldn't be scared of me now that he'd seen one of my darker sides. Sighing, I walked over to where the broken hockey stick was, and picked up the two pieces, thinking of how to best pay my respects. Should I cremate it? Bury it? My poor stick friend, it never wanted any of this. It just wanted to score goals and have fun…

"You are very upset, да?" Ivan stated, coming over and patting my shoulder.

"Yes." I tried to keep the emotion out of my voice. No use telling the other psycho in the house that I developed emotional connections to my ice hockey gear. The hulking Russian embraced me in a tight hug, nearly squishing me against his chest.

"I do not usually do this, but would you like some vodka? It makes things better, especially cold winter nights." Ivan awkwardly offered. Maybe he was trying to get back on my good side, or maybe he just wanted a friend. Whichever, I was happy for the kindness.

"Yes please." I said, taking a step back. The Russian fished around in his coat and pulled out a mostly empty bottle of the hard liquor. He handed it to me semi-reluctantly, and I smiled at his childishness. "Thank you, Ivan. Really."

"да, you are welcome." His smile returned fully, and he pulled out another bottle, full this time. "A toast?" He asked, extending the bottle in his hand towards me.

"I'm not sure what for, but sure." I clinked the two bottles together and took a drink of the alcohol, smiling at the way it burned my throat. Maybe a friendship with Russia wasn't impossible, after all. As long as I kept him away from Gilbert, and in a good mood, he shouldn't kill anyone. Hopefully.

**A/N:**

I'm _so _sorry for this awful, short chapter. I'm having terrible writer's block ;^;  
I'm not really sure what I want to happen next, so reviews/PMs giving suggestions or ideas are very much appreciated!

Also, on the subject of reviews, they're the things that keep me going. If you think you're being spammy and annoying by leaving more than one per chapter, you aren't. Reviews let me know that people enjoy what I write, and help me fix any errors that I make. Thanks to all readers, and double thanks to all reviewers!


	10. Just a Teenie update Sorry Guys

A/N:

The first piece of this chapter is in third person. I couldn't make it work with first ^_^;

"Is the Awesome me the only one seeing this?" Gilbert murmured, mostly to himself.

"No… No, I see it too." Vash answered, staring perplexedly at the scene in front of him.

"She is a little odd, da?" Ivan offered, smiling at the sight he'd unknowingly created.

"A little odd my ass… she's licking a wall." The albino said, tilting his head to the side, trying to make the scene make sense.

I woke up on the floor in the foyer, face in a puddle of drool and hands clutching an empty bottle of vodka. I rolled over, to be met with the red eyes of a particular ex-nation.

"Good morning, Krys." A 'kesesesese' "I hope you don't have lead paint."

"Mrmphg." I muttered something incoherent. What did he mean lead paint? I felt a hand helping me to my feet, and taking the empty bottle.

The albino noticed my lost look. "Dude, Krys, you were drunk as fuck and just kinda… started licking the wall. It was an unawesome thing to do, but it was definitely awesomely funny." That explained the drool. Did I really drool that much when I was drunk? Oh well.

" 'Il. Vhere's Ivhan? 'Nd Svitz?" I said, my tongue and lips sticking together, making it impossible to say 'w's correctly. I cleared my throat before heading off to the kitchen in search of something non-alcoholic to drink.

"Kesesesese! You sound like you're mocking bruder. 'Vhere are Svitz und tze Russki!'" He mocked, copying his brother's voice and chortling. He followed me into the kitchen, ranting about something I really didn't care about.

"…. So, will you help me find it?" I heard the end of what he was saying, and decided I was going to be lazy.

"No, Gilbert. If you lost something, move your own lazy arse and go find it." I said, grabbing a cup from the cupboard. I hope it wasn't anything important. Knowing him, he'd wait until I gave up and just went and found whatever it was.

"You suck. Gilbird, will you help me find my Iron Cross?" A small 'piyo' from the chick, and they were on their way to find the missing item.

"Hao do you m'nage to loze somzing like zat?" I mumbled to myself while drinking a glass of tap water, glad to have the odd after-aftertaste of vodka out of my mouth.

Oh well. He'd deal with it.

**A/N #2:**

Okay, so really short, really crappy half-done chapter. I just really wanted to put something up to say that I'm definitely not dead! I will TRY to have something a bit less half-baked up soon, but between school and the new Spring Track season (I'm a sprinter~) I have almost no time left for myself. I will, however, get as much writing done as possible.


	11. Pasta Yeah, Gonna Need more of That

I had just finished my conversation with a very amused, very frightening Russian, telling him not to give me alcoholic beverages, when I heard _it_.

_Knock knock knock._

God damn. How many days had passes since the last unit delivery? One? Two? With all the chaos, I don't even know anymore. Which unit could it possibly be this time? Maybe it'd be Lichtenstein. That'd put Vash in a better mood, and maybe save me some chaos between him and Gil. Oh! Maybe it was China! Some good, legitimate Chinese food would be really nice. Hmm… or maybe Germany. Then I wouldn't have to deal with Prussia when he was being annoying. Huh, that would be nice. But there was always the yelling and stereotypical German OCD that I would have to deal with… Ugh.

"Coming, coming." I shouted at the door, hoping that the delivery guy could hear me, even through the thick oak it was made of. To my dismay, Ivan followed close behind me, giggling creepily at something. I opened the door, and was faced with a very large crate, and a pair of perfect blue eyes peeking out from behind it.

"Delivery." A bored voice said, being somehow commanding despite its monotone. Who was this guy? He had the Flying Mint Bunny uniform, so it must have been just another delivery man from there. What happened to Garth? Why do I care? Oh, stop asking yourself questions, me. People are going to think you're crazy. Oh, really? Are they? Yes, now shut up.

I organized my thoughts before asking the stranger his name. "Who are you?" I said, trying to get a better look at him from around the crate. He was tall and sturdy, with platinum blonde hair and the most amazing cyan blue eyes I'd ever seen in real life…. And he may have been just a little bit intimidating. Well, not as intimidating as the purple-eyed Russki behind me, but not many people are…

"Name's Sven." He said, his monotone accented by something foreign. "Sign." He said, placing the electronic device into my hands with less force than his tone had led me to expect. I signed my name and he wheeled the crate into the foyer, looking around with interest. "Here's the manual."

"Thank you. Can I ask you a question?"

"Alright."

"Why didn't the other guy, Garth, make the delivery?"

"He's not good…" He seemed to be looking for the correct words "With blood. He was worry, with Russia unit being here, you be hurt. He want'd me to check up." I realized then that Sven was not a skilled English speaker, maybe he had only recently started making deliveries to English speaking regions.

"Oh, okay. Tell him I'm alright, please? It was nice of him to… worry. I guess."

I got an 'Mmhm' in reply, and the mysterious delivery guy walked out, carrying the electronic signer. I glanced down at the manual, and made a relieved, but at the same time frustrated, noise.

"Who is it, comrade?" Ivan asked, putting his hands on my shoulders and looking over my head at the packet in my hands.

"Italy." I answered, thinking of the insane headache I was going to be living with. I have no problem with stupid people, or optimistic people, but a mixture of both? I need to order some extra asprin…

"Ah! Feliciano?" He said, suddenly giving off a frightening aura. Did Russia not like Italy? I don't remember them having any problems with each other in the anime… well, other than Italy being scared out of his wits by Ivan. But that's understandable, for the fact that just about everything the Russian did was dangerous, sadistic, or just generally traumatizing in general.

I made some sort of confirming noise as I went about opening the box. I figured that Italy was harmless enough that, even if I woke him up wrong, he'd still be very friendly. Prying open the crate was a bit harder than I had imagined, but I was eventually able to get the front section off. I looked at the apparently sleeping form, and wondered how I should go about waking him up. Should I shake his shoulders? Pull his ahoge?(That's the silly little curl, just in case anyone doesn't know) Ah, screw it.

"Feli?" I asked in a friendly voice while poking the brunette. The young Italian stirred, and looked around with his eyes apparently closed. When his gaze settled on the curious Russian behind me, poor Italy jumped in fright and clung to the closest thing to him – me – and began wailing.

"Ah! Russia is scary!" He bawled, clinging much-too-tightly to my sweatshirt. I patted his back awkwardly, trying to comfort the frantic Italian.

"Italy. You need to get off of me. Ivan will not hurt you." I flashed the purple-eyed man in question a glare, daring him to say otherwise. The person who had been clinging to me loosened his grip, and slowly stood up straight, before tilting his head in thought.

"Ve~ You are a lot like Doitsu!" I rolled my eyes at his silly nickname for the serious character, and he continued speaking. "Hm? Doitsu does that, too! Ve, do you know him?" I shook my head.

"I know who he is, but I've never met him in person. I do know his brother, though." I told the Italian, wondering how he could've come to the conclusion that I was like Germany. I didn't look like him. I definitely didn't act like him… Did I? Oh well, thinking about that would just make my head hurt worse than it already did.

"Is Gilbert here?" Feliciano made a show of putting his hand to his forehead and looking around the foyer. As he was doing this, Vash tromped down the stairs, stomping his feet almost childishly.

"Yes, he most certainly is." The green-eyed man hissed, clearly quite angry. What the hell did Prussia do _this _time? Honestly, Gilbert has to be put on a leash.

"Where is he?" I questioned, wanting Feliciano to meet with all the tenants of the house.

"The Awesome me is right here!" The albino yelled, tromping down the stairs like he always did.

"Ve, Gilbert! Have you seen Doitsu?" The Italian asked happily. I pinched the bridge of my nose, this guy was just too happy for his own good. He'd end up beaten with a tennis racket if he didn't stop being so…so… Italian.

"Nah, West doesn't live here. Yet." Gilbert answered. Wait, yet? Does that mean that he knows which units people can get? I hadn't really thought about it until now, but I actually didn't know which characters were available in unit form. I should ask him.

"Aww, I wanted to see Doitsu. Oh well, ve." He seemed a little bit unhappy. Well, for about ten seconds, anyway. Then, his ADD kicked in, and he started checking out the house, walking around and completely oblivious to the Prussian about to grope his butt. He gave a small squeak when the albino's hands made contact, but did nothing to stop the molestation.

I gave a small growl, unheard by any but Ivan, who was practically draped over my shoulders for some reason.

"What is the problem, Krystal? You are _angry, _da?" He whispered into my ear, the evil little smile evident in his voice. "You are upset that your property is paying attention to someone else..." He giggled and walked away. Damn that creepy Russian, messing with my head. I wasn't upset about that, Feli had just given me a headache… Right? I walked to the desk that my laptop was set on, shooing my cat away and wondering at the strange feeling boiling in my gut.

**A/N:**

Oooh, what is this 'Mysterious' emotion that Krystal is feeling? I'm sorry if this chapter gets up late, my account has been misbehaving, and I couldn't put it up. Here's hoping that the addition of Italy will add some brightness to this family, but also a little drama too.


	12. I Know, I'm Thick as a Brick

I flipped open my laptop, hitting the enter key and giving a little smile as Asher whirred to life. Reaching into the only drawer that the desk had, I pulled out the charger cable and plugged one end into my beloved computer, and the other into the outlet concealed by one of the desk's heavy legs. It had been a while since I'd been online, so I was going to make my rounds and check my forums and such. I was stopped, however, by the tabs that Gilbert had left up from his last session using the internet.

"_The Awesome blog of the Awesome Prussia!"_

Wait, what? Gilbert had a blog? Honestly, he'd be activated for, like, a week and a half. Leave it to him to- HOLY CRAP. My thought process was cut short by what I was seeing. There were thousands of entries, all written in German and categorized by date. There were posts starting from about two years ago, all the way up to today's date. There was no way that Gil could've written all of these! Reading the first few, I realized that he _hadn't _written them. I'm not the most fluent reader when it comes to German, but I worked out the first one as something close to

'_Hating this weather. I mean, what kind of unawesome person lives in the middle of a fucking desert? Only a psycho could stand this heat. The Awesome Me is getting an unawesome sunburn, and guess what? The crazy chick that I'm living with expects me to take care of her stupid, unawesome girly dogs. I hate this place. Any other awesome Bruder want to come rescue me?_

_The Awesome Kingdom of Prussia, out.'_

Huh. Maybe it was a sort of community blog for Prussia units. Skimming across the page, I found a section titled 'My Posts.' I guess he'd left himself logged in… No harm in looking at what he'd written, right? Clicking on the link, I was faced with more German writing, each post about a paragraph long.

'_Yeah, so this place is all right, I guess. The chick who I ended up with isn't all that bad (she may be a little off her rocker, if you get what the awesome me is saying) , and this house is awesomely huge. I mean, its got an entire fucking ice rink in the basement. After a little (awesome!) raiding of the refrigerator, I found some German bier. I think I'm going to like being here..'_

'_So loving the awesome life. I went skating with Krystal (that's the chick that I'm living with's name) and then I convinced her to get awesomely drunk. Man, she's fucking hilarious that way. Have you ever seen someone get caught in their own shirt? The awesome me has. I have to say, there's just about nothing wrong with being here. I can't wait to see what happens next, this just seems to get more and more awesome.'_

'_Ugh, I hate the Swiss. They're so unawesome, even if some of them are German. Anyway, Switzerland showed up today, and just magically decided to hate the Awesome Me. He even shot at me, the unawesome bastard! Luckily, Krys was there to take away his guns. He seems to like her more than me. Damn unawesome bastard.'_

'_Yeah, so, today was completely unawesome. Despite the fact that my video games got here, it still managed to be a bust. Unawesome Bastard, AKA Ivan Brashitski, showed up. I was staying out of the way (The Awesome Me was definitely NOT hiding), and he comes in and is all 'Be one with unawesome mother Russia, da?' and I was all 'Fuck you.' Yeah, so, I was about to get turned into awesome jelly by that lead pipe of his, when Krys comes in and says 'America landed on the moon.' That awesome chick just takes off like a Mercedes and I guess eventually got caught. She comes back later with just a bruise. I don't think I've ever met anyone that awesome. Well, other than myself, of course.'_

All of these entries were signed off with "Gilbert the Awesome." I felt like I should be happy that he thought so highly of me… but there was still this unhappy feeling that was settled in my stomach. I corrected my food order, adding a request for more beer, vodka, pasta, and cheese. I also cut the deliveries to twice a week, rather than twice a month. I don't eat that much, but both the Swiss and the Prussian did, and I knew that the Italian that now lived with me would eat a lot, as well. I'm not sure what Ivan's eating habits are, but someone that huge has to consume quite a bit of food, right?

I closed Asher, being sure to add Gilbert's blog to my favourites and giving one last chuckle at the shimejis crawling around my screen (Wait, hadn't I had all of my Hetalia ones up? Where's Russia?). I had read a couple more entries, and it seemed like everyone else who'd gotten a Prussia unit either didn't want him, and was making him do their chores, or only wanted him as a… as a sex slave. It was one of the most disgusting things I've ever heard. I understand slash fics and yaoi fangirlism and such, but actually forcing people to do those things, against their will? Disgusting. Deplorable. Some other negative word that starts with a'd'.

I got up, pushing the desk chair in and wincing at the scraping noise it made against the tiles. I needed to get a rolling desk chair. Walking into the kitchen, I was met with a sight that amazed me. Gilbert, Vash, Feliciano, and Ivan were all sitting at the kitchen table, eating. And _not trying to kill each other_. It was a miracle!

"Ah, comrade, you have finally come to join us." Ivan said, taking small bites of the food on his plate and grinning creepily.

"There you are! The Awesome Me was wondering where you got to." Gilbert announced, getting up to put more food on his plate.

"Who cooked?" I asked, entranced by the smell of freshly cooked lasagna coming from the stove. I probably shouldn't even have bothered asking.

"Ve, I did! I hope Krystal likes my cooking." Feliciano piped up. I grabbed a plate of the steaming pasta, and sat down between Vash and Feli. Digging in, I gulped down my portion in a few bites, earning a disgusted glare from the Swiss on my right, and an awed stare from the Italian and Prussian on my left.

"What are you looking at?" I asked.

"V-ve, nothing!" Italy said. Apparently I was scary to him, because he attempted to hide behind Gilbert and pointedly looked away from me.

"Just watching you do an awesome impersonation of a vacuum, as always." Was the response I got from the albino, who had taken to petting the Italian to comfort him. The brunette 've'd' and leaned into the red-eyed nation's touch, a smile on his face.

The same heavy feeling settled into my stomach, stronger than earlier. I gave a small growl, this time only noticed by the Swiss, and got up to put my plate in the sink.

"I'll be at the shooting range, if anyone needs me." I announced, already walking towards the stairs. I stepped lightly, trying not to alert anyone to my bad mood. Opening the closet at the end of the hallway, I looked at my collection of pistols and rifles, trying to decide on which one to use. I smiled, a small, cynical grin, and lifted my Mauser c96 off of its display rack. It was difficult to get your hands on any original WWII weaponry, that's for sure, but it was always well worth the money. The quality was usually better than that of more modern weapons, simply because guns intended for combat were made to ensure that the soldier wielding them had the best chance of coming home.

I grabbed a clip… or was it a belt? I'm not sure what to call Mauser ammo strings, to be honest. Well, anyway, I grabbed some ammunition and walked to the end of the massive room dedicated to sporting, turning on my heel and facing the target. It was one of those white rectangles with the black silhouette of a person on them, my favourite kind. Taking aim, I smiled.

"One through the head." I shot, hitting the spot directly between the eyes of the silhouette.

"One through the heart." Another perfect hit, dead centre of the chest.

I let out a giggle, similar to Russia's, and unloaded the entire belt into the target, effectively slicing it in half at the waist. You gotta love Mausers.

I laid down on the floor, pointing the pistol at the high ceiling. I pulled the trigger, listening to the hollow click that signified the lack of ammunition. With a sigh, I placed the weapon on the floor next to me.

"You upset? That isn't awesome." A voice said to me, a hand placed on my shoulder. "Why?" A face hovers in my vision, red eyes searching my own for an answer.

"It's nothing.. It's dumb." I replied, sitting up. I earned a humourless 'kesesesese.'

"Well, even if it's something dumb, that makes it so that it isn't nothing. Sometimes you just don't make sense. So unawesome." He said, lips curving into a shallow grin.

"Eh, I just feel weird." It then dawned on me the truth of what I was experiencing. "I'm jealous."

The nation just looked at me oddly, raising one eyebrow quizzically.

"What on earth do you have to be jealous of, other than my Awesomeness?" He inquired, completely confused.

"Well… Italy." I said, looking at the floor and avoiding the gaze of the other.

"You're jealous of Pasta Freak? What for? I mean, he cooks better than you, but that isn't what this is about. What…?"

I paused for a moment, letting the silence become oppressive before I answered.

"Your attention." I felt my face heat up with the confession. It wasn't like me at all, to feel this jealousy, to feel this awkwardness.

"I hadn't realized." He said with a grin, reaching out to ruffle my hair. "I'm sorry. But… really. Did you think Italy would replace you?"

"Replace…me?" What did he mean? "It's just… you're the first friend I've had in at least four years. I didn't want you to give your attention to anyone else. I'm the one who should be saying sorry."

"Oh." The albino's face blushed a furious scarlet, and he seemed a little less happy. "Well, Italy won't replace you as my best friend, so don't worry!" A fake sounding 'kesesesese.'

"Just so you know," I said with a smile, happy to be reassured, "The laptop charger is always in the desk drawer."

"Alright. Can I use your computer for a little while?" Gilbert asked. I'm pretty sure it wouldn't have mattered if I'd said yes or no, but I said yes anyway.

'_Totally unawesome day. Either she's as thick as Bruder when it comes to feelings, or she doesn't like me the way I like her. She was talking to me about how she was afraid of Italy replacing her, and I'd assumed she meant… anyway, today is unawesome. Let's leave it at that._

_Gilbert the Awesome'_

**A/N:**

Yeah, so, angsty chapter! It won't stay like this, believe me. I've already got an idea for the next chapter, again thanks to the amazingly Awesome Emiry! You may see her leaving anonymous reviews as 'Panda Tanks' (Yes, Emiry, I know that's you. And also, IT'S PANZER.) Thanks to all my readers who continue to follow this story!


	13. Beta Units? Military Style!

"Hey… What are you doing? You aren't paying attention to me. Hey! Bitch! Pay attention to the Awesome me!"

"Shut up, Gilbert."

"What did you just say to me?"

"I said shut up."

"Kesesesese…~"

I turned around just in time to have the hyperactive albino tackle me, knocking me off my computer chair and onto the floor.

"Really, _Prußen_?" His red eyes widened the tiniest bit. I'd gotten into the habit of referring to him in German whenever I was annoyed with him, and he'd actually learned to be frightened of it. It's amazing isn't it? Gilbert, _learning …._ Pfff, yeah right.

"Yes… really." He smirked, and I saw a flash of inspiration in his eyes before he stole my glasses and deposited them on his own nose, all the while continuing to grin like an adorable idiot.

"I need those!" I whined. I have to admit, I'm almost blind without my glasses. When I'm not wearing them, I can see about a foot in front of my face before my vision starts to get blurry.

"Gott, you really do." Gilbert said, squinting through the thick lenses. "Are you legally blind? These things could be used to burn ants! Kesesesese, that'd be awesome…." It was just about then when I realized that we were in a rather… compromising position.

"Give those back, and get off of me please." I ordered, shifting a bit beneath the still stupidly-grinning man.

"Hmmm… no. I think I'll just stay right here."

"Get off of me or I'll be forced to bring pain to your vital regions."

"Fine. Unawesome killjoy."

Being relieved of the weight pinning me to the floor, I stood up and took the opportunity to get revenge. Jumping at the albino just as he finished standing up, I was able to knock him over and pin him to the floor.

"Give me my glasses, too." I growled, pretending to be running out of patience. The albino flinched, pulling the frames off of his face and returning them to their proper place on mine. Getting up and brushing the invisible dust off of myself, I grinned. "Let's go bother someone."

"When did you get so awesome?"

"I'm sure it has nothing to do with you."

"Unawesome bitch."

Cue stalking around my house, looking in every room for someone (That wasn't Ivan. We found him and Gilbert decided he didn't want to face an untimely end.) Cue finding a happy-looking Italian 've'ing and watching some kid's show on television. Cue tackling said Italian, shouting in British accents and inevitably collapsing into laughing fits while Feliciano begged for mercy and cried.

"WAAH, DOITSU DOITSU, SAVE ME!"

"Kesesesese~ Bruder isn't here to help you."

"Shut up, you're giving me a headache."

"I have relatives in your country! You wouldn't hurt an innocent virgin, would you?"

"SHUT UP ALREADY."

"Uhm… Italy? You may want to, you know, shut your yap. Unless you actually want to be hurt, of course."

"Thank you, Gilbert."

"Ve… ~"

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. It was fun to poke and prod at the brunette, until he started making noise. I've never met anyone as loud as he is, and I had been living in complete solitude and silence up until just recently.

And then came the last sound that I wanted to hear.

'_Knock knock knock'_

"God damn it. God damn it all." I facepalmed as I walked towards the door, cursing every stroke of bad luck I'd ever had. Opening the door, I was met with a familiar face.

"Hi! It's nice to see that you're still alive!" Garth's cheery voice piped up.

"Yeah… no. Go away."

"What, you don't want your next unit?"

"No."

"Why not? It's special!"

"You're special." I murmured under my breath.

"What was that?"

"What makes it special?"

"Oh, I thought you said something else. It's a Beta unit!"

"Beta…?"

"Yeah! It just means that there's no manual for it, and that you're one of the first to receive it."

"No manual? Go away."

"Oh, you're no fun." The delivery man said as he wheeled in the crate. "Time to sign!"

"Ficken dich." I muttered, unwillingly signing the electronic pad as Garth happily waved and left. What was I supposed to do with a unit that didn't have a manual? What if there was an issue that I had no idea how to fix? What if it was someone whose character I didn't know well?

"So, what's the scoop?" Gilbert asked, leaning against the wall and putting his hands behind his head.

"We open the crate and hope it isn't Belarus."

"Works for me."

Without much ado, the white-haired nation and I set about opening the wooden crate. The front, unlike on the last few, had hinges and a padlock. Garth didn't give me a key… did he? No, definitely not. Crap.

"Gil, can you go get a hammer out of the kitchen?"

"Why do you have hammers in your kitchen, exactly?"

"…"

After the object in question had been retrieved, I thought about how quietly I could remove the lock. When it came to activating units, they were extremely sound-respondent, and if it was someone who was a 'light sleeper', there may be trouble. Thinking this over, I decided to dust off an old skill that I'd acquired. Fishing a safety pin out of my pocket, I began my attempts to pick the lock.

"Hmmm… no… not..that's- Aha!" Ah, my amazing moments of 'eureka'.

Swinging the door on the front of the box outwards, I was met with a sight I doubt many had ever gotten to see. I was seeing Germany, leaning against the inside of the crate, sleeping with a small smile on his face. What a shame that I had to wake him up…

"ACHTUNG!" I commanded. The blonde in the crate immediately stood up, alert and focused, performing a salute.

"Jawohl!" The German replied, still a little dazed from the rude awakening. I looked at him and grinned. It must have been something predatory, because his expression immediately changed to a stoic yet wary glare.

I chuckled. "At ease, soldier..." He relaxed minutely, still confused as to where he was and why he was there. " And welcome to the family."

**A/N:**

I'm so sorry I haven't updated in so long! I'd put the blame on school or track, but in reality, I'm just too lazy and forgetful to remember to put up new chapters. Even though this fic is based off of Lollidictator's manuals, I decided to throw in a character who did not yet have one. I feel bad for Ludwig, he's getting thrown into all this loud chaos and confusion. Poor guy is going to have a hernia.


	14. Duh, I'm Winning

"Family…?" The new arrival mumbled, seeming even more confused.

"VE~! DOITSU, DOITSU!" Out of nowhere, Italy came running into the room and flung himself at Germany, 've'ing all the way.

"A- Hullo, Italia." The blue-eyed nation replied, blushing subtly and trying to release himself from the hug. "I'm guessing this is what you meant by family." He said, shifting his icy gaze towards me.

"Yeah. There's me, Gilbert, Italy, Switzerland, Russia, and now you." I replied.

His eyes widened a fraction. "You live with Osten, Vash, and _Ivan _and your house isn't completely destroyed?" He seemed awed. I guess it's an accomplishment. Sort of. In all reality, my house was big enough that nobody even had to come into contact with another person. Unfortunately, the living room and kitchen were popular gathering areas, and that always seemed to lead to trouble for me or Gilbert.

"Ja, it's not that bad. Your bruder behaves himself… sometimes."

"Hey, the Awesome me is _always _well beha- never mind." The albino cut himself off, and I grinned.

"Well, I'm not sure how long you've been in that crate, but you must be hungry." I said, turning my attention to the younger German.

He seemed hesitant to respond. "Hmm… I guess I am sort of hungry. As long as it's no trouble to you."

"No trouble at all. I assume you like the same kinds of beer that Gil does?" I began walking to the kitchen, only to be stopped by the red-eyed nation draping himself over my shoulders.

"Kryyyys," He whined into my ear. "Don't give all my bier to West!" The nation in question nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck, making unhappy noises at me.

"Hey, it's my beer too. Deal with sharing. It's not like I'm letting Ivan have it."

"Hmm… yeah. You have a point, I guess." Gilbert muttered, obviously unhappy with the concept that not _all _the beer in the house belonged to him.

"Well, Ludwig, kitchen is this way." I said, walking out of the Prussian's grasp and motioning for everyone to follow me.

"Ve, what does Doitsu want to eat? Pasta~?" Feli asked, skipping along next to his friend.

"I'll take what's offered to me." Ludwig said, his tone showing slight annoyance. Those two are supposed to be practically inseparable… why does it seem like Germany is being cold toward the hyperactive Italian?

"Hey, Krys, can I help you cook?" How come that damn Prussian always interrupts my thought processes?

"Yeah, fine. Don't make a mess." I growled the last part. Gilbert had a habit of leaving pots and pans everywhere after his excursions in the kitchen, and I was not looking forward to cleaning up after him again.

After a brief survey of the foods in the fridge, I discovered that there was only one option for this meal; We were going to have sausage and potatoes… again. Oh well, I guess that'd make Germany happy. And we did have lettuce, so there could be a salad or something. Ew… salad.

"Grab a pot and fill it with water, then grab one of the glass pans. Oh, and a bowl, too." I told the red-eyed nation. He made a disgruntled noise and set about grabbing the items I'd mentioned. "Italy, can you pre-heat the oven to 350?"

"Ve, sure!"

"And what can I do?" The blonde German asked.

"Uhm… peel potatoes? It's probably best if you do it, anyway. I don't trust them with sharp objects." I motioned to the other two nations occupying the kitchen.

"Krys," _Damn it, Gilbert! Shut up!_ "I'm done with all the pans."

"Then get the lettuce out of the fridge and put it in that bowl."

I took the sausage out of the refrigerator, earning a large smile from Gilbert, and a happy glance from his stoic brother. While he was taking apart the head of lettuce, the Prussian muttered something I couldn't hear.

"What was that?"

"I said, 'All green things must die.'" I've heard that phrase before... but where?

"Get back to work. And while I'm prepping the sausage, could you please take the potatoes out of the pot? We'll be mashing most of them."

"It's not a pot, it's a cauldron of awesomeness!" He clarified. All right, I've definitely heard these lines somewhere else…

After about a half an hour of going back and forth like this, the food was ready to eat.

"This is very good." Germany said, closing his eyes in appreciation.

"Trust me, if you guys hadn't helped me, it wouldn't taste anything like this." I said. Really, I can't cook.

"Ve~ Gil, what did you put on these potatoes?"

"It's called Gilbert Beilschmidt. Don't eat too much, otherwise your soul will weep and forfeit. It's just that awesome."

It finally clicked.

"Gilbert. Stop trying to be Charlie Sheen."

"I'm not trying to be Charlie Sheen. I'm _winning_."

"Do I need to hit you?"

"… Maybe."

I reached under the kitchen table, and pulled out a knee-hockey stick. (Knee hockey is awesome. It's miniature hockey… that you play. … on your knees. Yeah.) After a quick smack, and quite a few curses, we were all eating in peace. Well, Gilbert and Feliciano were eating in peace. As for Ludwig and myself, we were trying our hardest not to look at the countertops and the mess that was sitting on them due to our – ehem –_winning _albino.

"I give up." I said, standing up and pushing in my chair. Walking over to the offending mess, I began an OCD cleaning spree, which involved three different types of cleaners and a heavy duty scrub brush. Opening the drawer to return said scrub brush to its proper place, the brunette behind me made a comment about the contents of the drawer.

"Ve, why do you have hammers in your kitchen?" He asked, tilting his head to get a better view.

"Why does everyone ask that? Oh, by the way, anyone other than me want a beer?"

"The Awesome me does!"

"I would like one."

"Question for both of you. Bottle or mug?"

"Mug!"

"I'd like it in a mug, please."

Opening the freezer door, I took out three chilled mugs and turned around, intending to bring them to the table to be filled. Unfortunately, the most obnoxious member of my 'family' decided he was interested in the contents of the freezer.

"Dude, you have popsicles! Awesome!" Wait… we had popsicles?

"You can have one. Grab one for me, too."

Finally getting around to filling the glasses, I passed one to each of the Germans at my table.

"Cheers! To good food and beer!" I said, raising my mug off the table.

"And to my awesomeness!" Gilbert added.

"Cheers." Ludwig said, clinking all of our glasses together with a small smile.

"Ve~!" Italy piped up, smiling hugely at the blue-eyed nation's expression.

Finishing my glass and my food, I opened up the popsicle and licked it, not expecting what happened next.

"Ah! My dongue i' 'tuck!"

"Kesesesese! Really? Lemme try…"

I whimpered a bit as I pulled the offending dessert off of my tongue, watching as Gilbert hung the popsicle off the end of his, wincing the whole time.

"Can you get that off your tongue?'

" Ture I can! I'm awdum."

Ah, Gilbert. You certainly are.

" Holy 'uck tis hurds! Ouch!"

"I warned you."

"Hure you did, hure." He glared at me out of the corner of his eye, while Italy looked at him worriedly and his brother just facepalmed, smiling the tiniest bit at Prussia's stupidity.

**A:N/**

Two chapters in two days? It's a miracle!

If anyone doesn't recognize the lines that our dear albino is copying, go on You Tube and search for 'Charlie Sheen's Winning Recipies'


	15. 2:30 Breakfast and Dancing with Germans

"_Gottverdammt… _Ludwig!"

"Hm? What is it?"

"Your brother, that's what it is."

The blue-eyed nation walked into my room, slipping off his reading glasses and placing the book he'd been holding on the table near the door. All I had to do was motion to the 'kesesese'ing lump beneath the covers for him to understand the situation. Rolling down the sheets, he scowled at Gilbert, who was sprawled out horizontally across my bed – and my stomach – grinning deviously. With a raised eyebrow, Ludwig grabbed Gilbert by the collar of his shirt and 'gently' placed him on the floor.

"Really, bruder, you have your own room. You do." The blonde said.

"But… West…" The albino whined, "That creepy commie bastard has the room across from that! What if he comes in and…" Gilbert didn't finish his sentence, he just shook his head back and forth as if banishing the thought from his mind.

"Gah, Gilbert. I'll get you a lock." I hissed at him. "Just let me sleep!"

"You're just an unawesome bitch that doesn't deserve my company." The white-haired man retorted.

The younger of the brothers just looked at me quizzically. "You were still sleeping? I assumed you were reading a book (I have an absolute crap-ton of them lying around) or something similar. You do know that it is almost 14:30 hours,(2:30, stupid military time…) right?"

"Uh... yeah. I sleep late." I mumbled, hoping that I wasn't about to face one of his famous lectures about health and fitness that Gil'd told me so much about.

"Hmm… Why?" Odd question. "Most people do _not _sleep until the day is half over."

"I stay up late. Plus, if you hadn't noticed, I'm not 'most people.'"

He looked like he wanted to chuckle. "I certainly have noticed that. Now, you really should get up, it's not good to go more than twelve hours without eating."

"Wait, food?" I sat upright immediately, scooting off the side of my bed and nearly tackling Gilbert in my haste.

"Ja. I made spaetzle with string beans and bacon." All he'd needed to say was 'yes.'

I sprinted out of my room, and past two very confused nations before deciding that stairs weren't worth my time and sliding down the banister. A few milliseconds later, I was standing in the kitchen, being stared at by a Swiss, a Russian, and an Italian.

"Food. Food here." I said, panting between words.

"Da, Ludwig made some…" Ivan gestured to his plate with a slightly displeased expression on his face. Did he have an issue with German food? How could _anyone _not like spaetzle?

"Ve, Doitsu is such a good cook!" Feliciano chimed in.

"It doesn't suck." Oh, you're so nice, Vash.

I sat down at the table, looking confusedly at the blank wood in front of me.

"Food?" I asked, earning a confused look from Italy, and a disgruntled one from Switzerland.

"What, do you expect someone to feed you?" Vash said, seemingly annoyed.

I put on my best 'puppy-dog-eyes' face. "Yes. That would be nice."

I saw the motion in my peripheral vision, but did nothing to defend myself, not being aware of exactly what it was.

"Mein Gott! You are so awesomely adorable!" was the outburst I heard after being tackled to the kitchen floor. The red-eyed nation was hugging me, making little 'aww' sounds usually reserved for Gilbird.

I turned the exact same expression I'd been wearing to Germany, who had apparently walked in with Prussia, mouthing the word 'help.'

In one swift motion, the Aryan had Gilbert in a headlock with one arm, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. The white-haired nation involved squirmed for some time, before admitting defeat and relaxing in the other man's grip.

"Thank you." I said, rubbing the spot on the back of my head where it'd been forced into contact with the tile flooring. Gilbert was so overprotective of me when it came to Ivan, but in reality he hurt me more often than the sadistic Russian. Of course, it wasn't on purpose, but _still_.

"Bitte Sehr." The blonde murmured, releasing his grip on the Prussian.

Sitting down at the table, I found a plate of spaetzle and fork in my spot. Looking from face to face, I tried to determine who'd gotten food for me, but couldn't. Going through my normal routine of 'inhale now, taste never', I finished up my plate quickly.

"Let's play Just Dance 2!" I offered, looking around at the possible victi– contestants.

"I refuse." Vash said, cleaning off his plate and walking off to wherever.

The stoic blue-eyed nation standing in the doorway just looked at me with an odd expression.

"What?" I questioned.

"I'm just analyzing your thought process… this is what I have. 'Ugh, waking up. Oooh, food? I want food! Done with food. Let's go jump around like an imbecile!' Am I too far off?" He asked me, eyebrow quirked again.

"This is what I've gotten out of _your _thought process. 'Get up. Slick hair. Make food. Exercise. Read Book. Wake annoying brother and landlord. Make fun of annoying brother and landlord. Continue to act like an emotionless robot who cannot dance.' I think I nailed it." I said, copying his tone and raised eyebrow.

What happened next surprised everybody in the room. Ludwig held his cold expression, but then suddenly… _broke down and laughed. _Not like some little chuckle, either. The man was laughing his bloody arse off. Well, compared to the way he usually acts, anyway.

"Fine, you got me. I can't dance." He stated, traces of mirth still present in his azure eyes.

"Kesesesese! West, she made Vash play. It was awesome, just by the way. Not being able to dance is _not_ going to save you from humiliation."

The blonde man looked defeated, and his eyes pleaded with mine. Looking around the room, however, I knew I couldn't let him get out of this. Gilbert was smirking like the Devil's Advocate he is, Feliciano was smiling from ear to ear, making little excited 've' noises, and Ivan had a genuine smile. (Which was really creepy.)

Germany sighed in resignation. "Where are we playing?"

"Follow me~" I said, walking excitedly towards the family room.

Five minutes in, and I knew Ludwig was lying when he said he couldn't dance. Not only did he manage to get the top score out of all of us on a few songs, but he beat Ivan's high score on Rasputin. Also…

"West, are you sure you aren't… bent?"

"'Bent', bruder?"

"You know, homo. Gay. _Bent._"

The blonde stuttered indignantly. "What on _earth _makes you say that?"

"Dude, Lud, no _straight _guy can dance that well to 'It's Raining Men.'"

With Germany fuming, I was in charge of answering for him,(And protecting Gilbert's face) So I worded my sentence in a way that would make Gilbert drop the subject. "Gil, Ludwig here lives next to _Rodderich_. Or as you would put it, 'The gayest straight guy ever'. Does it make sense now?"

"Ah, Ja I get it! Kesesesese, West, youspend too much time with that guy if he's rubbing off on you like this."

The blue-eyed man simply growled, and put his wii-mote down.

"Can I be done playing now?" He asked.

"No." Me and Gilbert chorused.

**A/N:**

This chapter was so impossible to write. I didn't have issues with plot, or ideas, or writing it all out, but actually _typing _it… All I have to say is, don't let cats near your laptop while you're typing. It doesn't end well.


	16. Training Day and Tormenting the Swiss

"Twenty nine seconds, and you're telling me you can't run any faster? Get back on that track and move faster than a snail, you lazy arsch!" The blue-eyed man growled at me after I'd finished my 200-meter sprint.

" 'Kay, coach." I said, panting. Twenty-nine seconds was a good time… Oh well, if I didn't push myself, I'd never get better. Honestly, though, I'm surprised anyone survived training with Germany. Maybe it was because I was athletic that he wasn't going easy on me, but still. My track record had been thirty-two seconds, but running with the blonde drill sergeant had shaved a full three seconds off my time.

Taking my place at the beginning of the curve, I waited for the commands.

"Runners to your marks. Get set…" He always put an annoyingly long pause between 'get set' and 'go'. "Go!"

I took off sprinting, as always. Pushing yourself past the limits you thought you had was always a thrilling experience. Trying to keep my pace even and breathe was probably one of the most difficult things I've ever done, but considering the fact that I'd just sprinted a total of 2000 metres, that shouldn't have surprised me.

"Your time for that run was twenty eight point seven. Acceptable time. Barely, but acceptable." Ludwig shouted from the starting line.

"WOO, KRYS~! YOU GOT A COMPLIMENT FROM MY LITTLE BRUDER!" I heard the Prussian shout just as I was tackled to the ground. (Again.)

"Ah…ca-can't breathe. Get off me, fatty…" I said, attempting to squirm out from under Gilbert, who was 'kesesesese'ing.

"Hey, I'm not fat, you just weigh like, nothing. I'm too awesome to be fat."

I heard an indignant grunt as the albino's weight was lifted off of me.

"Bruder, you are not 'too awesome' to be fat. You should train with us. Besides, as far as I know, Miss Krystall can run much faster than you."

"Of course she can! She's been training with you, hasn't she?"

"Ja, but that doesn't automatically make you a superior athlete. Take Italia, for example. Completely useless, even after months of hard training…" There he goes again. Sounding all angry towards Feliciano.

"Gilbert, can you kick it out of here? I need to talk to your brother."

"Fine. I'm going to go grab some bier." The red-eyed nation said.

When Gilbert was gone, the younger of the Germans spoke. "What did you want to speak to me about?"

"Your behavior." He quirked an eyebrow at this. I mimicked him and grinned, before shaking my head and getting back to the matter at hand. "You don't act like… Isn't Italy supposed to be your friend?"

His perfect blue eyes widened and he looked away.

"If I tell you this… you can't tell any of your delivery people, or anyone who calls from F.M.B. co. that I am the one who informed you."

"Alright." I said. If I wasn't allowed to tell the company, it must have been information regarding the creation or production of units.

"I'm not… I'm not a 'Beta' unit. I'm simply malfunctioning, as according to them. My 'relationships' with other units are not how they are supposed to be. Some remain normal, like the way I act towards East, but others have been… corrupted. But, money is money, and they'll tell lies to make something like me sellable."

I noticed that he said 'something', not 'someone.'

"I don't care; I don't like Feliciano, either. I won't press the matter, and there's no way I'll mention it to anyone from the company."

He looked back, and those azure eyes were filled with a bottomless loneliness.

"Einsamkeit…" I murmured under my breath. "You look like you need a drink."

"Ja, I could go for a bier or two. Today's training was a heavier workout, but the results were sehr gut."

I smiled at the last statement. It just proved what I thought Germany's training methods were, 'play down the successes, and make them work harder for praise.' Walking down the stairs, I winced as my knee complained about being overworked.

"Oi, Gil!" I shouted down the long staircase. "Do we have any aspirin in the cabinet?"

"Ja, we do," was the response.

Walking into the kitchen, I was met with a sight that made my eyes go wide. Switzerland was tied to a chair, looking worriedly at one of his guns, which was sitting on the table while Gilbert was lazily tipping his glass back and forth above it, the amber liquid it contained coming mere millimeters from spilling onto the firearm below.

"Good, you're here. Get that damn obnoxious bastard to untie me so I can shoot him with the gun he's so boldly threatening to harm." The Swiss spat at me, glaring at the albino who was obviously enjoying himself quite a bit.

"Gottverdammt, East…" The blonde next to me mumbled, rubbing his temples. Hmm… I may as well save the aspirin for Ludwig.

"_Prußen…" _I growled, causing him to stop tilting the glass.

"What?" He asked, red eyes narrowing mischievously.

"Stop tormenting Vash."

"Hmm… no, I don't think I will."

Meanwhile, Ludwig had untied Vash, who was quite obviously going to harm the nation who was sitting on the kitchen table and smirking. To prevent the justified harm that was about to occur to his brother, the younger German had taken it upon himself to restrain the angry Swiss.

"But I do have a proposition for you. You do something, and I stop bothering blondie." His smirk got bigger, and everything about his expression said 'troublemaker.'

"And what, exactly, do you want me to do?" I demanded, wary.

"Kiss me."

**A/N:**

So, yeah. Boring chapter, that contains very little crack. I have gotten a few PMs asking for Krystall and Gilbert's 'relationship' to move forward, so to all who asked, here it is. Sorta. I'm lazy and mean, so I decided to have a cliffhanger ending. Kesesesese~

A little side note, Krystall is completely oblivious. So… this is surprising to her.


	17. Germans Vs Other

"K-kiss?"

"Ja. Kiss me. Küssen mich. Whichever."

"You w-want- Why- uhm.." I couldn't organize my thoughts, so I just blushed madly and looked at the floor. Is that dirt...?

The red-eyed nation answered my fragmented questions. "Yes, I want to kiss you. Because you're almost as awesome as I am." He looked down. "And I like you." He sounded almost as awkward as I felt. It was… interesting, to get a peek under the self-assured attitude.

I glanced over to the side, just in time to see Ludwig and Vash quietly walking away.

"Gott, I feel like an awkward teenager. So unawesome." He said, walking over. Placing a hand under my chin, Gilbert tilted my head up, making me look into his blood-red eyes.

"So..? Yes or no?"

"U-uhm… What?"

"Kiss me?" He seemed unsure of himself, as if he had no clue what to expect.

I ran the scenarios through my head, thinking back to the very first time I'd met the Prussian. After my other family had arrived, I'd stayed closest to Gilbert… Suddenly, everything that had been done or said between us made sense. My jealousy over Feliciano, his disappointment when we were talking at the shooting range…

"You'll really stop bothering Vash?" I asked, moving just a little bit closer.

"…Maybe." He said, before connecting our lips. I could feel the smile, not the cynical devil's-advocate grin, but the smile that he wore. I could taste beer, and most of all, I could tell that he really did like me. It was so weird, to know that you could really count on someone… It was.. the first time that I'd ever felt so close to a person.

It was over too soon. The albino stepped back, calm smile still on his face, as if that one action had been enough to displace his usual hyper attitude.

"You know, your eyes are a really cool colour." He said, his typical expression coming back.

I made a 'pfffft' noise at him. "Says the one with red eyes. I don't think my brown eyes are all that interesting, compared to something like that."

"Your eyes aren't brown." The white-haired nation stated. "They're like… Yellow with brown over- They're gold. There we go. It's awesome."

"Gold..?" I never thought about it that way. I'd always assumed my eyes were light brown. Then again, I don't get close enough to the mirror to check out my eye colour, so…

"Hey, wanna go find West and blondie and tell them the kitchen's safe now?"

"Actually.. I kinda wanted to gather everyone together. I have a fun game we can play." I smirked deviously, thinking about how… interesting my game was going to be.

"From the look on your face… Let's go find them."

A few minutes later, and my entire family was gathered around the kitchen table. Feliciano seemed curious, Ivan was just sitting there with that creepy smile, Vash looked pissed off and was glaring at Gilbert, and Ludwig just looked at me knowingly.

"Alrighty… We're going to be playing a game." I said, a predatory grin taking over my face.

"Ve~ What kind of game? Is it fun?" Italy chimed in.

"Da, I would also like to know what kind of game we're playing." Ivan said, a dark aura surrounding him.

"A game does not seem like a beneficial use of my time. Do I have permission to train, instead?" Ludwig asked.

"I do not want to play." Vash said, crossing his arms and huffing.

"Well, Blondie, you and bruder will both want to play after you find out what kind of game it is~" Gil said, looking pointedly at the two nations.

"We will be having an Airsoft war." I said, placing a duffel bag on the table. "Airsoft guns are recreations of actual weapons that shoot 'harmless' plastic pellets." I hope nobody caught my inflection on harmless…

"In this war," Gilbert continued, "We will either be playing in teams of twos or threes. We each get a gun and a jersey. Two hits, and you are "dead". We'll be counting on honesty, and the word 'ouch' to see who's been knocked out of the round. Everyone got it?"

"Ve… I don't want to play! War is scary!" The Italian whined, obviously distressed.

Feliciano was the only one who had any objections to playing.

"Well, Feli, since nobody wants to sit out with you… You have to play. Time to choose teams." I said, grinning at the brunette's panicked expression.

"Does anyone have suggestions for teams?" Ludwig asked, clearly planning on avoiding chaos in the selection.

"I say we play a three-on-three," the albino next to me said, "Germans Vs. Other." He grabbed my hand, and Germany's and dragged both of us to one side of the table.

I looked at him quizzically. "How did you know I was German..?" I don't think I'd ever mentioned it to him…

"You speak German, for one, and I didn't think anyone else would like Rammstein, German bier, and be so athletic. But really, it was an assumption. I'm glad the Awesome me got it right."

"Alright, any objections to that?" Ludwig asked. Being met with no resistance, he reached into the bag and pulled out three identical Sig Saur p226 Airsoft guns, along with the three blue jerseys.

"Looks like you three are the yellow team." I said, pushing the duffel bag across the table to the other team. Vash looked… well, happy. Ivan's grin was semi-legitimate, and Italy just looked terrified. "We have three minutes from 'go' before any rounds are allowed to be fired. Each gun has an extra loaded ammo clip. Out of ammo? You better be good at hiding."

"Go!" Vash shouted, bubbling over with enthusiasm. He was so… happy. We should do this more often.

I took off towards the stairs, running up them and down the hallway to the sports centre. Ludwig went in a similar direction, but went down the hallway containing the bathrooms instead. I hadn't seen any of the other team or Gilbert go upstairs.

I glanced at my watch… twenty seconds until open fire. Cocking my gun, I positioned myself behind the shooting range target and focused on the only door to the room.

Not two minutes in, and Italy walked into the room, shaking and obviously frightened. Taking a long look around, he satisfied himself that the room had no other occupants, and slowly backed away from the door, watching in front of him for any movements.

It wasn't difficult to hit such an easy target.

"Ow! Doitsu Doitsu, save me! Some big meanie just shot me and it really hurt and ow, help me Doitsu!"

Seconds later, the blonde in question walked in, cautiously coming around the corner in case the room held more than one attacker.

"Ve, Doitsu is here to save me!" The brunette said, letting his guard down.

I swear Germany smiled as he pulled the trigger on Feliciano.

"OW! DOITSU, WHY WOULD YOU SHOOT ME, WHY?" He shouted, falling to the ground and crying dramatically.

"Because, we're on different teams." I offered, coming out from my hiding place and approaching the two nations. The crying Italian just sniffed. "Now, Italy, go stand by the front door and if anyone comes to shoot you, wave your white flag."

"Ve… okay.." He said, walking away dejectedly.

"Well, now that our cover is thoroughly blown, we should high-tail it out of here." I said, dropping to a crouch and sneaking towards the door, being sure to step as lightly as possible. Germany followed suit, and we stayed in this guarded position until we approached the stairs. Ludwig turned into the hallway that led to the bedrooms, and I took a risk and walked down the stairs. About halfway down, movement from the dining room caught my eye.

Gilbert was crawling on his stomach behind the table and chairs, while Ivan approached, from the kitchen. Both of them were oblivious to the other's presence. Seeing Russia's violet eyes in a mirror in the dining room, I aimed directly between them and fired, hoping the ricochet would hit its target.

'_Bingo'_ I thought to myself as I saw him wince and look around. The small clicks of the plastic bullet dropping to the floor were enough to alert Prussia, who did a ninja-roll and stood up, dealing the killing blow to Ivan, while taking a shot as well.

I saw the two talking, and the Russki walking towards the front door. Slowly stepping down the remaining steps, trying not to make any noise, I walked into the living room, which was completely deserted. Sneaking behind the couch, I crept through the door leading to the library, and froze as soon as my eyes were past the doorframe. Coming through the other entrance, the one that led around from the garage was none other than Vash, the sole survivor of the yellow team. I grinned. One shot would be easy. Then, it would be cat and mouse until one of us was standing by the front door.

Aiming my pistol, I fired a shot, getting a glancing blow on the Swiss's ear. He winced slightly, while dropping to the floor and rolling out of the way. I backed up, walking through the living room and into the foyer. Picking up the pace and remaining quiet, I snuck into the front hall closet, where I was met with company.

"Kesesesese~ What are you doing here?" The albino asked, shifting closer and peeking through the crack and into the front hall.

"Shh. What do you think? By the way, I got a shot off on Vash."

He laughed quietly, his eyes narrowing. "Here comes blondie, now. D'ya think I can make this ricochet shot..?"

Gilbert lifted his pistol and fired, and, by the curses he was throwing around, missed. Vash stood still for just a moment, before sprinting to our hiding spot and throwing open the door.

Needless to say, the Swiss man was shot by two guns simultaneously.

"Ah, dammit!" Vash cursed, stomping his foot and turning to meet his allies at the door.

Ludwig stood at the top of the stairs, pistol still in firing position. Alright, so Vash had gotten triple owned by the German team.

"Ah, Luddy, we won!" Gilbert shouted, making some sort of happy gesture with his hands.

"Luddy…? Ah, ja, East. We won. For the fact that they had Feliciano, it's not really a surprise." The blue-eyed nation said, walking down the staircase.

"Who's up for some end-game alcohol?" I offered, looking from Gilbert to Ludwig to Ivan.

"The Awesome me is~!"

"Vodka is good, da?"

"I'd like some bier, myself."

Walking to the kitchen with my small herd of nations, I pulled a few beers and a bottle of vodka out of the fridge.

"Here you go." I said, handing a beer to Ludwig and Gilbert, and the bottle of vodka to Ivan.

"One second…" Gilbert said, walking closer. "Victory kiss!" He practically shouted before claiming my mouth with his own.

I heard his brother's irritated sigh, and smiled, pulling my face away. The Prussian looked annoyed at the loss of contact, and I laughed.

"Let me drink my beer, you obnoxious arse."

**A/N:**

Ugh… I'm not cut out to be a fluff writer. It's so difficult! Try not to be too hard on my fail-fluffiness, it's my first time attempting to write it. Like always, reviews are loved!


	18. The topic is 'Insanity'

"Excuse me, but what _are _you doing?" A very confused blonde-haired German asked me.

"Hanging out."

"I can… see that…" He said before slowly walking away, pausing once or twice to look back.

Sure, his reaction may have had something to do with the fact that I was currently upside-down, hanging from the top of the football net, but whatever. I wasn't up here because Gilbert dared me, oh no. And I definitely wasn't stuck, no, _definitely _not. Okay, so maybe I should've asked Ludwig for help when he came by. Maybe.

"Uhm.. Ludwig?" I called out, decently loudly.

"Ja?" He walked back into the sports room, apparently having been standing by the door.

"Could you… help me? Maybe? I think I'm stuck." I asked

"You 'think' you're stuck." He said, one eyebrow raised.

"Yes. I think."

"For the fact that you're stuck on the top of a football net, I highly doubt you've thought very much." Ludwig clarified, smirking the tiniest bit as he walked up to the goal.

Getting down, even with help, was an awkward procedure. At first, I was going to swing myself up on top of the bar, and then get down with Germany's help, but it seems life doesn't love me that way. No, my shirt decided to get stuck on a bit of metal, and trying to get it unhooked left me hanging straight down with all four limbs thoroughly tangled in the netting.

Rolling his eyes and sighing, the blue-eyed German hoisted himself on to the top of the net and began freeing my wrists from the death-trap net. Unfortunately for me, that ended in me hanging 100% upside down, head a few feet from the floor.

'_Oh boy'… _Was the only thing that ran through my mind before I was unceremoniously dumped directly onto the Astroturf. The whine that left my throat must have been quite amusing… I heard a snort of amusement from Ludwig, who was still sitting on top of the goal.

"What are you laughing at?" I demanded, eyes narrowing.

"I don't think I really need to answer your question." The blue-eyed man said, jumping down with practiced ease and offering a hand to help me up.

Rejecting the offer, I growled unintelligibly under my breath before walking down to the kitchen, where I was nearly guaranteed to find someone.

"Ah, privjet, comrade~!" Russia happily greeted me as I walked into my home's gathering place.

"Hey Ivan. Have you seen Gilbert? I owe him a favour…" I grinned devilishly, and the man's purple eyes lit up with interest.

"Nyet, I have not. What did he do to incur your wrath this time?" Ivan asked, a little too curious. The man was like a giant puppy, whenever he was excited about something, he'd endlessly inquire about it.

"I'll just say it involves being stuck upside down."

"He dared you to hang upside down from the football goal, da?"

"How did you know?"

"He dared me to do the same thing. However, he was not so eager to press the matter when I wanted to re-introduce him to my pipe. That would have been fun…" The psychopathic man trailed off, and I decided that I really didn't want to hang around for him to actually tell me where my albino nuisance was.

I let the scarf-wearing nation ramble on to himself, giggling creepily occasionally, and walked away.

"Gilbert~ Where are you~?" I called, hopefully not sounding too much like Russia.

"Over here!" The annoyance in question answered, rummaging through the closet I'd shown him when he'd first moved in, the one with all the board games.

"What are you doing in there? I thought you said board games were too lame for your awesomeness?"

"This one isn't!" The white haired man pulled out 'Apples to Apples', a bright grin taking up residence on his face.

"Get some more people, and I'll play with you." I told him, already forgetting any reason for being put out with the hyperactive man-child.

Within five minutes, my odd family and I were gathered around the coffee table in the den. (My entire family except Vash, actually. For some reason, he was more pissed at Gilbert than usual.)

"Everyone knows how to play this game, right?" I asked, handing out seven cards each to the four other players.

One brief explanation of the rules, and we launched into the confusing world of Apples to Apples.

"Okay… the topic is 'Scary', ve~!" Feliciano piped up, placing the green card onto the polished wood table.

There were a couple snickers from our native Prussian, a creepy smile from Ivan (But what's new?) and an irritated expression from Ludwig as we put our cards down.

"Ve, we have 'war', 'Donald Trump'… who? 'Cabbage', and a blank card. Who put down the blank?"

Gilbert raised his hand and snickered.

"That card is 'German Tourists'." The red-eyed man said, elbowing his younger brother and 'kesesesese'ing.

"Gilbert wins!" Feliciano said, cowering in his seat. He was probably thinking of droves of German tourists, all trying to be friendly. The mental image made me laugh.

"My turn." I said, drawing the next green card in the pile. "The topic is 'Patriotic'."

There were grunts of annoyance, though Feliciano had a particularly happy smile.

"Okay, so there's 'glazed doughnut', 'flags', 'Swiss bank accounts', and … 'wheat'? I choose wheat. Just because… I can."

There was an unhappy little 've' from Italy as Germany slowly picked up the green card, baffled as to how he'd won that round.

"It is my turn, da?" Ivan asked, drawing the next green card out of the pile. "The theme is 'Friendly.'"

Gilbert headdesked.

After a moment of indecision, the red cards were placed on the table next to the theme card.

"The answers are 'The Mafia', 'festering wounds', 'Abraham Lincoln', and 'Wal-Mart door greeters'. Hm… I have to go with The Mafia. They're nice people."

Germany took yet another card, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"The Awesome me gets to judge now!" the albino said, taking the topmost green card. "The card is 'Happy'."

There were snickers and giggles from everyone except Ludwig.

Gilbert looked warily at the face down red cards, flipping them over as if he expected them to bite out at him. "The answers are 'Berlin – 1945'," He glared at Ivan, who looked away innocently, "'Hiroshima – 1945', 'The Cold War'," It was Ivan's turn to glare around the room, "And 'Adolf Hitler.' What the fuck is wrong with you people? ! WHO PUT DOWN HITLER? !"

With that simple sentence, Feliciano and I were on the ground, laughing to our heart's content. Shakily, I sat up and raised my hand.

"All of these suck. I choose The Cold War." Prussia said, crossing his arms and pouting. Germany took his third green card, his face showing more confusion than ever.

Boy, Apples to Apples sure is a great game.

**A/N:**

I am so sorry for the horrible lack of updates! I hope all you amazing readers haven't abandoned me ;^;

I'll make sure to update waaaay more often after I get out of school, I still have two more days of finals until then. But, once summer's here, I'll be able to update at least once a week.

On another note, I'm beta-ing for my muse, Emiry, AKA Panda Tanks. Please take some time to stop by and read her stories, we'd both love feedback!


	19. Appologies and Notices to Readers

A/N:  
I'm sorry if you're getting excited because I finally updated just to see this…

I've been having terrible writer's block since that last chapter. Every chapter I put up I would say 'next sooner!' but that just didn't happen. Summer is over, and I need more reasons to procrastinate, so I may put up some short little chapters now and then. I'm not the most organized person, and keeping tabs on a story with no plot is pretty difficult. None of this excuses my utter abandonment of everyone who reads FTTF, though. Like I said, I'll try to get stuff up but until I can get everything sorted out for once, you're not going to see much.


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